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LIFE OF 

' UIS-PHILIPPE 



WITH A HISTORY OF THE LATE 



REVOLUTION IN FRANCE. 




ALSO 

A DESCRIPTION OF THE MEMBERS OF THE PROVIS- 
IONAL GOVERNMENT —AND OF GUIZOT, SEC- 
RETARY OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS, UNDER THE 
LATE KING. 

WITH FOUR BEAUTIFUL ENGRAVINGS. 

EDITED BY FRANCIS W. RICE, 

TWO YEARS A RESIDENT OF PARIS. 



• BOSTON: 

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NEW YORK : BURGESS, STRINGER & CO. ; H. LONG & BRO. ; W. H. GRAHAM : BERFORD 

& CO. PHILADELPHIA : G. B. ZEBIER & CO. ; T. B PETERSON ; A WINCH ; STROKES 

& BRO. BALTIMORE : W. TAYLOR & CO. CLVCINNATI : ROBINSON & JONES. 

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LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE, 



^N presenting this brochure before the public, the editor claims but 
little more than the credit of condensing and bringing into shape, 
in a cheap form, the history of the stirring events that have created 
such intense interest in all cduntries, and among all classes and 
conditions of men. The excellent " Life of Louis-Philippe," thaa 
whom but few men have played a more conspicuous part on the stage 
of action, is taken from a popular work by Robert Chambers, of Edin- 
burg. 

LOUIS-PHILIPPE, ex-king of the French, and one of the most re- 
markable men in Europe, was born in Paris, Oct. 6, 1773. He is the 
1 



a LIFE OF LOUTS-PHILIPPE. 

eldest son of Louis-Philippe-Joseph, Duke of Orleans — better known 
under his revolutionary title of Philippe Egalite — and of Marie, only- 
daughter and heiress of the wealthy Duke of Penthievre. The Or- 
leans branch of the Bourbon family, of which Louis-Philippe is now 
the head, originated in Philippe, a younger son of Louis XIII., created 
Due d'Orleans by his elder brother, Louis XIV., and of whom the 
French king is the grandson's great-grandson. Philippe, the first 
Duke of Orleans, was twice married ; his second wife being Elizabeth 
Charlotte of Bohemia, granddaughter of James I. of England. From 
this lad)^ the Orleans family are descended, and through her trace a 
direct relationship to the line of Stuart, and the present royal family of 
England. While a child, Louis-Philippe was entitled Duke of Valois; 
but on his father succeeding to the title of Duke of Orleans in 1785, 
he became Duke of Chartres, which for a number of years he re- 
tained. 

Whatever were the personal and political faults of Citizen Egalite, 
he was a kind father, and beloved by his children, five in number, one 
of whom, however, a daughter, died young. Desirous of imparting to 
his family a sound education, in which he himself had the misfortune 
to be deficient, he committed them to the superintendence of Madame 
de Sillery — better known by her later adopted title of Countess de 
Genlis. Notwithstanding the subsequent errors of this lady, she was 
eminently qualified, by her talents and disposition, to be an instruct- 
ress of youth. The principles on which she based her plans of edu- 
cation were considerably in advance of the age, and such as are only 
now beginning to be generally understood. She considered that it was 
of the first importance to surround children almost from their cradle 
with happy and cheering influences, to the exclusion of everything 
likely to contaminate their minds or feelings. It was necessary, above 
all things, to implant in them a universal spirit of love — a love of 
God and his works, the consciousness that all was from the hand of an 
Almighty Creator and Preserver, who willed the happiness of his 
creatures. To excite this feeling in her young charge, she took every 
opportmiity of arousing the sentiment of wonder with respect to na- 
tural phenomena, and then of explaining the seeming marvels on prin- 
ciples which an awakening intelligence could be led to comprehend. 
The other means adopted to form the character of her young pupils — 
the Duke of Valois, Duke of Montpensier, the Count Beaujolais, and 
and their sister the Princess Adelaide — were equally to be admired. 
While receiving instructions in different branches of polite learning, 
and in the Christian doctrines and graces, from properly qualified 
tutors, they learned, without labor or pain, to speak English, German, 
and Italian, by being attended by domestics who respectively conversed 
in these languages. Nor was their physical education neglected. 
The boys were trained to endure all kinds of bodily fatigue, and taught 
a variety of useful and amusing industrial exercises. At St. Leu, a 
pleasant country residence near Paris, where the family resided under 
the charge of Madame de Genlis, the young princes cultivated a small 
garden under the direction of a German gardener, while they were in- 
structed in botany and the practice of medicine by a medical gentle- 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 3 

man, who was the companion of their rambles. They had also ate- 
liers, or workshops, in which they were taught turning, basket-mak- 
ing, weaving, and carpentry. The young Duke of Valois took 
pleasure in these pursuits — as what boy would not, under proper di- 
rection, and if allowed scope for his ingenuity } He excelled in cabi- 
net-making ; and assisted only by his brother, the Duke of Montpen- 
sier, made a handsome cupboard, and a table with drawers, for a poor 
woman in the village of St. Leu. 

At this period of his youth, as well as in more advanced years, the 
subject of our memoir gave many tokens of a benevolent and noble 
disposition, sacrificing on many occasions his pocket-money to relieve 
distress, and exerting himself to succor the oppressed. Speaking of 
his progress and character under her tuition, the Countess de Genlis 
observes : " The Duke of Chartres has greatly improved in disposition 
during the past year ; he was born with good inclinations, and is now 
become intelligent and virtuous. Possessing none of the frivolities of 
the age, he disdains the puerilities which occupy the thoughts of so 
many young men of rank — such as fashions, dress, trinkets, follies of 
all kinds, and the desire for novelties. He has no passion for money ; 
he is disinterested ; despises glare ; and is consequently truly noble. 
Finally, he has an excellent heart, which is common to his brothers 
and sister, and which, joined to reflection, is capable of producing all 
other good qualities." 

A favorite method of instruction pursued by Madame de Genlis con- 
sisted in taking her young pupils on a variety of holiday excursions. 
Interesting rural scenes, spots consecrated by historical transactions, 
cabinets of curiosities, manufacturing establishments, &c., were thus 
visited, and made the subject of useful observation. In the summer of 
1787, the Duchess of Orleans and her children, accompanied by their 
superintendent, visited Spa, the health of the Duchess requring aid from 
the mineral waters of that celebrated place of resort. A pleasing 
anecdote is related of the Orleans family on the occasion of this visit. 
The health of the Duchess having been much improved by the waters 
of the Sauveniere — a spring a few miles from the town in the midst 
of pleasing scenery — the Duke of Chartres and his brothers and sis- 
ter, prompted by their instructress, resolved on giving a gay and com- 
memorative /e<e. Round the spring they formed a beautiful walk, 
removed the stones and rocks which were in the way, and caused it to 
be ornamented with seats, with small bridges placed over the torrents, 
and covered the surrounding woods with charming shrubs in flower. 
At the end of the walk conducting to the spring whose \vaters had 
been so efficacious, was a kind of little wood, which had an opening 
looking out upon a precipice remarkable for its height, and for being 
covered with majestic piles of rock and trees. Beyond it was a land- 
scape of great extent and beauty. In the wood was raised, by the 
duke and his brothers and sister, an altar to " Gratitude," of white 
marble, on which was the following inscription: — " The waters of 
the Sauveniere having restored the health of the Duchess of Orleans, 
her children have embellished the neighborhood of its springs, and 
have themselves traced the walks and cleared the woods whh more 



4 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 

assiduity than the workmen who labored under their orders." On the 
fete day in question, the young Duke of Chartres expressed with grace 
and effect his filial sentiments of devotedness and love, but suddenly 
left the side of his mother, and appeared with his brothers and sister, 
a few seconds afterwards, at the foot of the altar, himself holding a 
chisel in his hand, and appearing to be writing in it the word '■'•Grati- 
tude.'''' The effect was magical ; all present were at once charmed 
and touched ; and many a cheek was bedewed with pleasurable tears.* 
The same authority from whom we have the above anecdote, relates 
some interesting particulars of a journey which the family made about 
this period to Eu, in Normandy, whence they proceeded westward by 
Havre to the bay of Avranches. Here they visited the rocky fortress 
of St. Michael, which, standing within the margin of the sea, is a con- 
spicuous object for a distance of many miles around. Long celebrated 
for its shrine of St. Michael, the convent in this island-fort had for ages 
been visited by thousands of devotees, and probably this species of 
celebrity, as well as the natural features of the place, and its historical 
associations, induced the young princesof Orleans to view it with some 
degree of interest. Till this period, its dungeons had been employed 
as a state-prison ; and these were viewed with melancholy feelings by 
the young visitors. While conducted over these gloomy recesses by 
the monks, to whose charge the prison had been committed, the Duke 
of Chartres made some inquiries relative to an iron cage, which had 
been used for the close confinement of prisoners. The monks, in re- 
ply, told him that the cage was riot of iron, but of wood, framed of 
enormous logs, between which were interstices of the width of three 
and four finger-breadths. It was then about fifteen years since any 
prisoners had been wholly confined therein, but any who were violent 
were subject to the punishment of twenty-four hours. The Duke of 
Chartres exprejsed his surprise that so cruel a measure, in so damp a 
place, should be permitted. — The prior replied, that it was his inten- 
tion, at some time or other, to destroy this monument of cruelty, since 
the Count d'Artois (afterwards Charles X.) had visited Mount St. 
Michael a iew months previous, and had positively command(^d its 
demolition. " In that case," said the Duke of Chartres, " there can 
be no reason why we should not all be present at its destruction, for 
that will delight us." The next morning was fixed by the prior for 
the good work of demolition, and the Duke of Chartres, with the most 
touching expression, and with a force really beyond his years, gave 
the first blow with his axe to the cage, amidst the transports, accla- 
mations, and applauses of the prisoners. The Swiss who was appoint- 
ed to show this monster cage, alone looked grave and disappointed, 
for he made money by conducting strangers to view it. When the 
Duke of Chartres was informed of this circumstance, he presented the 
Swiss with ten louis, and with much wit and good humor observed, 
"Do now, my good Swiss, in future, instead of showing the cage to 
travellers point out to them the place where it once stood ; and surely 

* Reminiscences of Men and Things, — a series of interesting papers in 
Frazer's Magazine : 1843. 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. O 

to hear of its destruction will afTord to them all more pleasure than to 
have seen it," 

One of the means by which Madame de Genlis endeavored to teach 
her pupils to examine and regulate their own minds and conduct, was 
the keeping of a journal, in which they were enjoined to enter every 
occurrence, great and small in which they were personally concerned. 
The journal kept by the Duke of Chartres, in consequence of this re- 
commendation, has latterly been given to the public, and makes us 
acquainted with some interesting particulars of his early life, as well 
as with the sentiments which he then entertained. The latter are such as 
might have been expected from a lad reared within the all-prevailing 
influence of revolutionary doctrines. Of the political movements of 
1789, Madame de Genlis and her husband were warm adherents ; and 
they failed not, with the concurrence of the Duke of Orleans, to impress 
their sentiments on the susceptible mind of their charge. Introduced, 
and entered a member of the Jacobin Club, the young Duke of Char- 
tres appears from his journal to have been in almost daily attendance 
on the sittings of this tumultuary body, as well as the National As- 
sembly. What was much more creditable to his judgment, he seems 
to have been equally assiduous in acquiring a knowledge of surgery by 
his visits to the Hotel-Dieu, or great public hospital of Paris. A few 
entries in his journal on these and other points, illustrative of his 
youthful character and pursuits may here be introduced. 

" iVoiJ. 2 (1790). — I was yesterday admitted a member of the 
Jacobins, and much applauded. I returned thanks for the kind recep- 
tion which they were so good as to give me, and I assured them that 
I should never deviate from the sacred duties of a good patriot and a 
good citizen. 

Nov. 26. — I went this morning to the Hotel-Dieu. The next time 
I shall dress the patients myself. * * 

Zfec. 2. — I went yesterday morning to the Hotel-Dieu. I dressed 
two patients, and gave one six, and the other three livres, * * 

Dec. 25. — I went yesterday morning to confession. I dined at the 
Palais Royal, and then went to the Philanthropic Society, whence I 
could not get away till eight o'clock. * * i went to the midnight 
mass at St, Eustache, returned at two in the morning, and got to bed 
at half-past two. I performed my devotions at this mass [Christmas]. 

Jan. 7 (1791). — I went this morning to the Hotel-Dieu in a hack- 
ney-coach, as my carriage was not come, and it rained hard. I dressed 
the patients, and bled three women. * * 

Jan. 8. — In the morning to the Assembly ; at six in the evening to 
the Jacobins. M. de NoaHles presented a work on the Revolution, 
by Mr. Joseph Towers, in answer to Mr. Burke. He praised it highly, 
and proposed that I should be appointed to translate it. This propo- 
sition was adopted with great applause, and I foolishly consented, but 
expressing my fear that I should not fulfil their expectations. 1 re- 
turned home at a quarter past seven. At night, my father told me 
that he did not approve of it, and I must excuse myself to the Jaco- 
bins on Sunday." [We are afterwards informed that he executed the 
1* 



6 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 

translation, but that it was arranged for the press by his sub-governor 
or tutor, M. Pieyre, whose name was prefixed to it.] 

The Duke of Chartres appears from his journal to have been at- 
tached in an extraordinary degree to Madame de Genlis, whose admo- 
nitions he always regarded as those of a mother. Referring to this 
kind instructress, under the date May 22, he proceeds : — " O my 
mother, how I bless you for having preserved me from all those vices 
and misfortunes (too often incident to youth), by inspiring me with that 
sense of religion which has been my whole support." 

Some years previous to this period, the duke had been appointed 
to the honorary office of colonel in the 14th regiment of dragoons. 
Such offices being now abolished, it became necessary for him to as- 
sume in his own person the command of his regiment, and for this 
purpose he proceeded to Vendome in June, 1791, accompanied by M. 
Pieyre. At this time considerable commotion took place in many 
parts of France, in consequence of the refusal of a numerous body of 
clergy to take an oath prescribed by the constitution. The nonjuring 
clergyman were everywhere ejected from their livings, and in some 
places treated with indignity. While the Duke of Chartres was in 
Vendome, a popular ferment took place, in which two of these unfor- 
tunate men would have been murdered by the mob, but for his humane 
interference. The occurrence is described as follows in his journal : 

" June 27. — [Mentions his attendance with his regiment on a re- 
ligious procession led by a clergyman who had taken the appointed 
>oath.] At noon I had brought back the regiment, but with orders not 
to unboot or unsaddle. I asked Messrs. Dubois, d'Albis, Jacquemin, 
.and Phillippe, to dinner. They brought us word that the people had 
, collected in a mob, and were about to hang two priests. I ran im- 
mediately to the place, followed by Pieyre, Dubois, and d'Albins. I 
came to the door of a tavern, where I found ten or twelve national 
. guards, the mayor, the town-clerk, and a considerable number of peo- 
ple, crying, ' They have broken the law ; they must be hanged — to 
the lamp-post I' I asked the mayor what all this meant, and what it 
^■was all about. He replied, ' It is a nonjuring priest and his father, 
.who have escaped into this house ; the people allege that they have in- 
sulted M. Buisson, a priest who had taken the civic oath, and who was 
carrying the holy sacrament, and 1 can no longer restrain them. I have 
■ sent for a voiture lo convey them away. Have the goodness to send 
for two dragoons to escort them.' I did so immediately. The mayor 
- stood motionless before the door, not opening his mouth. I therefore 
addressed some of the most violent of the mob, and endeavored to ex- 
plain ' how wrong it would be to hang men without trial ; that, more- 
over, they would be doing the work of the executioner, which they 
• considered as infamous ; that there were judges whose duty it was to 
deal with these men.' The mob answered that the judges were aristo- 
crats, and that they did not punish the guilty. I replied, ' That's your 
own fault, as they are elected by yourselves ; but you must not take 
the law into your own hands.' There was now much confusion ; at 
last one voice cried — 'We will spare them for the sake of M. de 
'Chartres.' 'Yes,. yes, yes,' cried the people ; ' he isa good patriot ; be 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 7 

edified US all this morning. Bring them out; we shall do them no 
harm. I went up to the room where the unhappy men were, and 
asked them if they would trust themselves to me ; they said yes. I 
preceded them down stairs, and exhorted the people not to forget what 
they had promised. They cried out again, ' Be easy ; they shall re- 
ceive no harm.' 1 called to the driver to bring up the carriage ; upon 
which the crowd cried out, ' No voiture — on foot, on foot, that we 
may have the satisfaction of hooting them, and expelling them igno- 
miniously from the town.' ' Well,' I said, ' on foot; be it so ; 'tis the 
same thing to me, for you are too honest to forfeit your word.' We 
set out amidst hisses and a torrent of abuse ; I gave my arm to one of 
the men, and the mayor was on the other side. The priest walked 
between Messrs. Dubois and d'Albis. Not thinking at the moment, I 
unluckily took the direction towards Paris. The mayor asked one of 
the men where he would wish to go ; he answered, 'To Blois.' It 
was directly the contrary way from that which we were taking. The 
mayor wished to return, and to pass across the whole town. I opposed 
this, and we changed our direction, but without going back through the 
streets. We passed a little wooden bridge of a few planks without 
rails ; there the mob cried to throw them into the river, and endeav- 
ored, by putting sticks across, to make them fall into the water. I 
again reminded them of their promise, and they became quiet. When 
we were about a mile out of the town, some of the country people 
came running down the hill, and threw themselves upon us, calling 
out, ' Hang or drown the two rascals ! ' One of them seized one of 
the poor wretches by the coat, and the crowd crushed in, forced awav 
the mayor and M. d'Albis. I remained alone with M. Dubois, and 
we endeavored to make the peasant loose his hold. I held one of the 
men by one hand, and by the other endeavored to free the coat. At 
last one of the national guard arrived to our assistance, and by force 
cleared the man. The crowd was still increasing. It is but justice to 
the people of Vendome to say that they kept their word, and tried to 
induce the peasants to do no violence to the men. Seeing, however, 
that if I continued my march, some misfortune must inevitably occur, 
I cried we must take them to prison, and then all the people cried, 
' To prison ! to prison ! ' Some voices cried, ' They must ask pardon 
of God, and thank M. de Chartres for their lives.' That was soon done, 
and we set out for the prison. As we went along, one man came for- 
ward with a gun, and said to us, ' Stand out of the way while I fire on 
them.' Believing that he was really about to fire, I rushed forward in 
front of my two men, saying, ' You shall kill me first.' As the man 
was well dressed, M. Pieyre said to him, ' But how can you act so ? ' 
' I was only joking,' says the man; ' my gun is not charged.' We 
again continued our way and the two men were lodged in the prison." 
The unfortunate priests were afterwards, to the satisfaction of the 
populace, left to be dealt with in terms of law. On the 1st of July 
we find the following entry: — "Several of those who, the day be- 
fore had been the most savage, came with tears (o ask my pardon, 
and to thank me for having saved them from the commission of a 



8 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 

crime." The feelings of the duke must have been enviable at this 
moment, but not less so on the following occasion ; — 

^^ August 3. — Happy day! I have saved a man's life, or rather 
have contributed to save it. This evening, after having read a little of 
Pope, Metastasio, and Emile, I went to bathe. Edward and I were 
dressing ourselves, when I heard cries of ' Help, help, I am drowning ! ' 
I ran immediately to the cry, as did Edward, who was farther. I came 
first, and could only see tops of the person's fingers. I laid hold of 
that hand, which seized mine with indescribable strength ; and by the 
way in which he held me, would have drowned me, if Edward had 
not come up and seized one of his legs, which deprived him of the 
power of jumping on me. We then got him ashore. He could 
scarcely speak ; but he, nevertheless, expressed great gratitude to me 
as well as to Edvvard. I think with pleasure on the effect this will 
produce at Bellechasse. I am born under a happy star! Opportuni- 
ties offer themselves in every way ; I have only to avail myself of 
them ! The man we saved is one M. Siret, an inhabitant of Vendome, 
sub-engineer in the office of roads and bridges. I go to bed happy! 

" August 11. — Another happy day. I had been invited yesterday 
to attend at the Town-House with some non-commissioned officers and 
privates. I went to-day and was received with an address ; there was 
then read a letter from M. Siret, who proposed that the municipal body 
should decree that a civic crown should be given to any citizen who 
should save the life of a fellow-creature, and that, in course, one should 
be presented to me. The municipal body adopted the proposition, and 
I received a crown amidst the applause of a numerous assembly of 
spectators. I was very much ashamed. I nevertheless expressed my 
gratitude as well as I could." 

Besides the numerous entries in the journal referring to his military 
avocations and his epistolary correspondence, he occasionally speaks 
of the studies in which he was engaged. One extract will suffice to 
show his diligence in this respect. 

" Yesterday morning at exercise. On returning, I undressed, and 
read some of Henault, Julius Caesar, Sternheim, and Mably, Dined, 
and after dinner read some of Ipsipyle, Metastasio, Heloise, and Pope. 
At five, to the riding-house ; and afterwards read Emile." 

About the middle of August, 1791, the Duke of Chartres quitted the 
garrison of Vendome with his regiment, and went to Valenciennes, in 
the north of France, where he continued his military avocations. In 
April, 1792, war was declared against Austria, which was observed to 
be maturing plans for a hostile invasion of France ; and now the Duke 
of Chartres made his first campaign. At the head of troops confided 
to him by Kellermann, he fought at Valmy (September 20, 1792 ; 
and afterwards (November 6,) under Dumouriez, distinguished him- 
self at the battle of Jemappes. 

Here may be said to terminate the first and happy period of the life 
of Louis-Philippe, and we now have to follow him in the misfor- 
tunes which attend his family. 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 



MISFORTUNES AND WANDERINGS. 



While the Duke of Chartres was engaged in repelling the foreign 
arntiies which menanced the tottering fabric of the French monarchy, 
the Revolution was hastening to its crisis. Monarchy being extin- 
guished, and the king and his family placed in confinement, a decree 
of banishment was hastily passed against all other members of the 
Bourbon-Capet race. This act of proscription, which was aimed at 
the Orleans family by its enemies, was as summarily repealed as it 
had been passed ; but the circumstance was of too alarming a nature 
to be disregarded, and the Duke of Chartres earnestly besought his 
father to take advantage of the decree of banishment, and with his 
family seek a retreat in a foreign country. " You will, assuredly," said 
he, addressing the Duke of Orleans, " find yourself in an appalling 
situation. Louis XVI. is about to be accused before an assembly of 
which you are a member. You must sit before the king as his judge. 
Reject the ungracious duty, withdraw with your family to America, 
and seek a calm retreat far from the enemies of France, and there 
await the return of happier days." To these persuasives the Duke of 
Orleans unfortunately lent a deaf ear; he considered it to be incon- 
sistent with his honor and his duty, to desert his post at the approach 
of danger. Yet so much was he moved by the entreaties of his son, 
that he desired him to consult an influential member of the assembly 
on the subject, and let him know the result. The deputy, however, 
declined to express his opinion. " 1 am incompetent," said he, " to 
give your father any advice. Our positions are dissimilar. I myself 
seek redress for personal injuries j your father, the Duke of Orleans, 
ought to obey the dictates of his conscience as a prince, — of his du- 
ties as a citizen." The undecided answer neither influenced the 
judgment of the Duke of Orleans, nor corroborated the arguments of 
his son. Impressed to the fullest extent with the duties of a citizen, he 
felt that he could not honorably recede ; and that a man, whatever his 
rank might be, who intentionally abandoned his country, was deserv- 
ing of the penalties reserved for traitors. Perceiving that his father 
made his determination a point of honor, a case of political conscien- 
tiousness, he desisted from further solicitation, embraced him for the 
last time, and returned to the army.* 

Disastrous events now rapidly followed each other. On the 21st of 
January, 1793, the unfortunate Louis XVI. was carried to the scaffold, 
and a few months thereafter, the Duke of Orleans was seized on the 
plea of conspiring against the nation. On the 6th of November, he 
was brought before the revolutionary tribunal, and, after a mock trial, 
condemned to death on a series of charges, all of which he was noto- 
riously guiltless. Vievving the proceedings of his judges with contempt, 
he begged, as an only favor, that the sentence might be executed with- 
out delay. The indulgence was granted, and he was led, at four 
o'clock, when the daylight was about failing, from the court to the 

* History of First Revolution. 



10 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 

guillotine. An eye-witness on this tragic occasion mentions, that, 
prompted by barbarous curiosity, he took his station in the Rue St, 
Honore, opposite the palace of the duke, in order to observe the effect 
which, at his last moments, these scenes of former splendor and en- 
joyment might have on him. The crowd was immense, and aggra- 
vated, by its unjust reproaches and insults, the agony of the sufferer. 
The fatal cart advanced at so slow a pace, that it seemed as if they 
were endeavoring to prolong his torments. There were many other 
victims of revolutionary cruelty in the same vehicle. They were all 
bent double, pale, and stupefied with horror. Orleans alone — a strik- 
ing contrast — with hair powdered, and otherwise dressed with care in 
the fashion of the period, stood upright, his head elevated, his counte- 
nance full of its natural color, with all the firmness of innocence. The 
cart, for some reason, stopped for a few minutes before the gate of the 
Palais Royal, and the duke ran his eyes over the building with the 
tranquil air of a master, as if examining whether it required any addi- 
tional ornament or repair.* The courage of this intrepid man faltered 
not at the place of execution. When the executioner took off his coat, 
he calmly observed to the assistants who were going to di-aw off his 
boots, " It is only loss of time ; you will remove them more easily 
from the lifeless limbs." In a few minutes he was no more. Thus 
died, in the prime of life — his forty-sixth year — the rash and impru- 
dent, though honest Philippe Egalite ; adding, by his death, one to 
the long list of those who perished from the effects of a political whirl- 
wind which they had contributed to raise. 

Seven months previous to this event, the Duke of Chartres, along 
with his friend General Dumouriez, became assured that the cause of 
moderation was lost, and looked with apprehension on the reign of 
terror which had already begun to manifest itself. There was little time 
for deliberation as to their course. Being summoned to appear before 
the Committee of Public Safety, and knowing that citations of this na- 
ture were for the most part equivalent to condemnation, both instantly 
fled towards the French frontier. The fugitives were hotly pursued, 
but were fortunate in making their escape into the Belgian Nether- 
lands, at that time an appanage of the House of Austria. What were 
the reflections of the Duke of Chartres on this conclusion to his career 
as a friend of liberty, we should vainly endeavor to imagine. 

The duke was courteously received by the Austrian authorities, who 
invited him to enter their service ; but he declined to take up arms 
against France, and preferred to retire for a time into private life. He 
now pursued his way, as a traveller, by Aix-la-Chapelle, Cologne, and 
Coblentz, towards Switzerland, depending on but a small sum of money, 
and everywhere in danger of being captured. His sister Adelaide, or 
Mademoiselle d'Orleans, as she was called, fled also to the same coun- 
try in company with Madame de Genlis, and the two parties joining 
at Schaffhausen, proceeded to Zurich, 

* Alison mentions that tfiis lialt was caused by Robespierre, who promised, 
even in this last extremity, to rescue the Duke of Orleans, provided he would 
give him his daughter Adelaide in marriage. The duke, it is said, scornfully 
repelled the insulting offer. 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 11 

The two younger sons of the Duke of Orleans, Montpensier and 
Beaujolais, were less fortunate than their brother and sister. At first, 
confined along with their father in the tower of St. Jean at Marseilles, 
they were in a short time deprived of the consolation of being near a 
parent, and finally had to mourn his unhappy fate. The two young 
captives were now exposed to greater insults and severities, and in the 
tumultuary excesses of the mob, who contrived to force the prison and 
massacre a large number of its inmates, they were in imminent dan- 
ger of losing their lives. After the fall of Robespierre, besides beinc 
suffered to take an airing daily in the courtyard, they were permitted 
to correspond with their mother, the widowed Duchess of Orleans, 
who, suffering from bad health, was permitted by government to re- 
side a prisoner on parole, in the house of a physician in Paris. Yet 
these indulgences served little to assuage the irksoraeness of their sit- 
uation, and on the 18th of November, 1795, they attempted to make 
their escape. Montpensier, in descending from the window of his cell, 
fell to the ground ; and on coming to his senses after the shock, he 
found that his leg was broken. Beaujolais was more fortunate, and 
could with ease have escaped on board a vessel leaving the port ; but 
he preferred to remain with his brother, and returned to imprisonment. 
In consequence of this unfortunate attempt, the two princes were ex- 
posed to fresh severities from their inhuman jailer. By the repeated 
supplications of their mother, and the growing moderation of the gov- 
erning party, they were finally, after a miserable confinement of three 
years, liberated, on condition of proceeding to the United States of 
America, there to join their elder brother, Louis-Philippe, an account 
of whose wanderings we shall now resume. 

Arriving in the town of Zurich, it was the intention of the Duke of 
Chartres to take up his abode there with his sister and Madame de 
Genlis ; but to this arrangement there were difficulties which had not 
been foreseen. The French royalist emigrants in Zurich were by no 
means friendly to the house of Orleans, and the magistrates of the 
canton, by giving refuge to the prince, dreaded embroiling themselves 
with France. The illustrious exiles needed no explicit order to seek 
a new retreat. They quietly departed from Zurich, and crossing the 
mountains to the town of Zug, procured accommodation in a small 
house near the borders of the adjoining lake. Their rest in this se- 
cluded spot was of no long duration. Their rank and character being 
discovered, they were once more under the necessity of preparing to 
seek a place wherein they might be sutTered to dwell unobserved, and 
in peace. At this crisis, by the intercession of a kind friend in Swit- 
zerland, M. de Montesquieu, admission into the convent of Sainte- 
Claire, near Bremgarten, Avas procured for Mademoiselle d'Orleans 
and her instructress. Relieved of anxiety on account of his beloved 
sister, the Duke of Chartres commenced a series of wanderings in 
different countries of Europe, everywhere gaining a knowledge of 
men and things, and acquiring firmness from the adverse circumstan- 
ces with which it was his lot to contend. Deprived of rank and for- 
tune, an outlaw and an exile, he now was indebted alone to his own 
native energies, and the excellent education which he had acquired. 



12 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 

The first place visited by the duke was Basle, where he sold all his 
horses but one, for the sum of sixty louis-d'ors, and with the remaining 
horse, along with Baudoin, a humble and faithful retainer, who insisted 
on remaining in his service, set out in prosecution of his journey. The 
cavalcade was affecting. Baudoin was ill, and could not walk. He 
was therefore mounted by his kind-hearted master on the back of the 
horse which had been reserved for his own use, and leading the animal 
in his hand, the Duke of Chartres issued from the gates of Basle. One 
can easily fancy the interest which must have been raised in the minds 
of the Swiss peasantry, on witnessing such a manifestation of humane 
feeling. 

An excursion of several months through some of the most pictur- 
esque and historically interesting parts of Switzerland, while it gratified 
the love of travel, and enlarged the mind of the prince, also diminished 
his resources ; and a time came when it was necessary to part with 
his remaining horse. From this period, with a knapsack on the back 
of his companion, the ever attached Baudoin, and with staffs in their 
liands, the pair of wanderers pursued their journey on foot, often toil- 
worn, and at last nearly pennyless. On one occasion, after a toilsome 
journey, when they reached the hospitium of St Gothard, situated on 
an inclement Alpine height,* they were churlishly refused accommo- 
dation for the night, and were fain to seek shelter and repose beneath 
the shed of an adjoining inn. Courageously contending with privations 
in these mountain regions, the duke was at length reduced to the great- 
est straits ; and it became necessary for him to think of laboring for his 
support. Yet, as labor is honorable in a prince as well as a peasant, 
there was not to this intrepid young man anything distressing in the con- 
sideration that he must toil for his daily bread. While he reflected on 
the best means of employing his talents for his support, a letter reached 
him from his friend M. Montesquieu, stating that he had obtained for 
him the situation of a teacher in the academy of Richenau, a village 
at the junction of the two upper Rhines, in the south-eastern part of 
Switzerland. Glad of such a prospect of employment, the Duke of 
Chartres set out on his journey to Reichenau, where he shortly after 
arrived in the humble equipage of a pedestrian, a stick in his hand, 
and a bundle on his back, along with a letter of introduction to M. Jost, 
the head master of the establishment. Being examined by the officers 
of the institution, he was found fully qualified for his proposed duties ; 
and though only twenty years of age, was unanimously admitted. 
Here, under the feigned name of Chabaud-Latour, and without being 

* " How often," says Madame de Genlis, in allusion to the trials and priva- 
tions to which the Duke of Chartres was exposed after his escape from 
France, — " How often, since his misfortunes, have I applauded myself for the 
education 1 had given him; for having taught him the principal modern lan- 
guages; for having accustomed him to wait on himself; to despise all sorts 
of effeminacy ; to sleep habitually on a wooden bed, with no covering but a 
mat; to expose himself to heat, cold, and rain; to accustom himself to fa- 
tigue by daily and violent exercise, and by walking ten or fifteen miles with 
leaden soles to his shoes ; and finally, for having given him the taste and 
habit of travelling. He had lost all he had inherited from birth and fortune; 
nothing remained but what he had received from nature and me ! " 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 13 

recognised by any one save M. Jost, he taught geography, history, 
the French and English languages, and mathematics, for the space of 
eight months. In this somewhat trying and new situation, he not only 
gave the highest satisfaction to his employers and pupils, but earned 
the esteem and friendship of the inhabitants of Reichenau. 

It was while here filling the post of a schoolmaster, that the Duke of 
Chartres learned the tragical fate of his father. Some political move- 
ments taking place in the Grisons, Mademoiselle d'Orlees thought it 
proper to quit the convent at Bremgarten, and to join her aunt the 
Princess of Conti, in Hungary. M. Montesquieu believed that he 
might now give an asylum to the prince, of whom his enemies had for 
some time lost all trace. The duke consequently resigned his office 
of teacher at Reichenau, receiving the most honorable testimonials of 
his behavior and abilities, and retired to Bremgarten. Here he re- 
mained, under the name of Corby, until the end of 1794, when he 
thought proper to quit Switzerland, his retreat there being no longer 
a secret. 

We now find the Duke of Orleans, as he vvns entitled to be called 
since his father's decease, once more a wanderer, seeking for a place 
of repose, free from the persecution of the French authorities and their 
emissaries. He resolved to go to America, and Hamburg appeared to 
liim the best place for embarkation. He arrived in that city in 1795. 
Here his expectation of funds failed him, and he could not collect suf- 
ficient pecuniary means to re&ch the United States ; but being tired of 
a state of inactivity, and provided with a letter of credit for a small 
sum on a Copenhagen banker, he resolved to visit the north of Europe. 
This banker succeeded in obtaining passports for him from the King 
of Denmark, not as the Duke of Orleans, but as a Swiss traveller, by 
means of which he was able to proceed in safety. He travelled 
through Norway and Sweden, seeing every thing worthy of curiosity 
in the way, journeyed on foot with the Laplanders along the moun- 
tains, and reached the North Cape, in August, 1795. After staying a 
few days in this region, at eighteen degrees from the pole, he returned 
through Lapland to Torneo, at the extremity of the Gulf of Bothnia. 
From Torneo he went to Abo, and traversed Finland ; but dreading 
the vengeful character of Catherine, he did not enter Russia. 

It must be acknowledged that Louis-Philippe was now turning the 
misfortunes of his family to the most pi-ofitable account. By bringing 
himself into contact with every variety of life, and adding the treas- 
ures of personal observation to the stores of learning with which his 
mind was fraught, he was preparing himself for that course of events 
which has given him such a powerful influence over the destinies of 
his own country and of Europe. The bold and rugged scenery of 
these artic regions, and the simple and unpretending kindness of the 
inhabitants, must have produced a vivid impression upon a young man 
of his rank, and pi'evious pursuits, sent forth under such circumstances 
to commence his novitiate in the world. 

After completing the examination of these ancient kingdoms, and 
after having been recognised at Stockholm, he proceeded to Denmark, 
and, under an assumed name, withdrew himself from observation. 
2 



14 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE, 

During his expedition, no improvenaent Imd taken place in his pecuni- 
ary resources, or political prospects ; but no reverses could shake the 
determination he had formed not to bear arms against France ; and he 
declined the invitation of Louis XVIII. to join the army under the 
Prince of Conde. 

The wandering prince had taken his measures with such prudence, 
that the French government had lost all traces of him, and the agents 
of the Directory were instructed to leave no means unemployed to 
discover his place of refuge. Attention was particularly directed to 
Prussia and Poland, in one or other of which countries he was thought 
to be. But tnese efforts were baffled, and were finally succeeded by 
an attempt of a different character, making such an appeal to the feel- 
ings of the son and brother, as left him no hesitation in accepting the 
offer of a more distant expatriation, which was made to him. A com- 
munication was opened between the Directory and the Duchess of 
Orleans; and she was given to understand, that if she would address 
herself to her eldest son, and pi'evail upon him to repair to the United 
States, her own position should be rendered more tolerable, and the 
sequestration removed from her property ; and that her two youngest 
sons should be released, and permitted to join their brother in Ameri- 
ca. To this proposition the duchess assented ; and wrote a letter to 
her son, recommending a compliance with the terms proposed, and 
adding, — " May the prospect of relieving the suffering of your poor 
mother, of rendering the situation of your brothers less painful, and of 
contributing to give quiet to your country, recompense your gener- 
osity ! " 

The government charged itself with the despatch of this letter to the 
exile, and a new effort w^as made for his discovery. When other 
means had failed, their charge-d'affaires at Hamburg applied to Mr. 
Westford, a merchant of that city, who, from some circumstances, was 
supposed to be in correspondence with the prince. This suspicion was 
well founded ; but Mr. Westford received with incredulity the declar- 
ation of the charge-d'affaires, that his object, in opening a communica- 
tion with the duke, was to convey to him a letter from his mother on the 
part of the government ; and disclaimed all knowledge of his actual 
residence. He, however, immediately communicated to the duke a 
statement of what had taken place, and the latter determined to risk 
the exposure, in the hope of receiving a letter directly from his 
mother. He was actually in the neighborhood of Hamburg, though in 
the Danish slates, where he had changed his residence from time to 
time, as a due regard to secrecy required. An interview between the 
duke and the French charge v^^^s arranged by Mr. Westford at his 
own house in the evening ; and there, after the receipt of his mother's 
letters, Louis signified at once his acceptance of the terms proposed, and 
his determination to embark for the United States without delay. He 
immediately wrote a letter to his mother, commencing with the dec- 
laration, — ." When my dear mother shall receive this letter her orders 
will have been executed, and I shall have sailed for the United 
States." 

The ship " American," Captain Ewing, a regular trader between 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 15 

Philadelphia and Hamburg, was then lying in the Elbe, preparing for 
departure. The duke, passing for a Dane, applied to the captain, and 
engaged his passage for the usual amount, at that time thirty-five 
guineas. He had with him his faithful servant Baudoin, who had re- 
joined, him in his travels, and whom he was solicitous to take with him 
across the Atlantic. But the captain, for some reason, seemed unwil- 
ling 1o receive this humble attendant, and told his importunate passen- 
ger that the services of this man would not only be useless to him upon 
the voyage, but that when he reached x\merica, he would, like most 
servants, desert his master. He was, however, finally persuaded to 
yield, and the servant was received for seventeen and a half guineas. 

The duke was anxious to escape observation in Hamburg, and asked 
permission of the captain to repair on board his ship, and remain a few 
days before her departure. The captain, with some reluctance, con- 
sented to this unusual proposition ; though it afterwards appeared that 
this step, and the mystery which evidently surrounded his young pas- 
senger, had produced an unfavorable impression upon his mind. 

Late in the night preceding the departure of the ship from the Elbe, 
when the duke was in his berth, an elderly French gentleman, des- 
tined to be his only fellow cabin passenger, came on board. He un- 
derstood English badly, and spoke it worse ; and perceiving the ac- 
commodations far inferior to those he had anticipated, he set himself 
to find fault with much vehemence, but with a garrulity wonderfully 
checked by the difficulty he encountered in giving vent to his excited 
feelings in English. He called for an interpreter; and, not finding 
one, he gradually wore away, if not his discontent, the expression of 
it, and retired to rest. In the morning, seeing the duke, his first in- 
quiry was if he spoke French ; and perceiving he did, he expressed 
his gratification, and said, " You speak very well for a Dane, and you 
will be able to get along without my instruction. You are a young 
man, and 1 am an old one, and you must serve as my interpreter." 
To this the duke assented ; and the old gentleman, who was a planter 
from St. Domingo on his way to his native island, commenced the 
enumeration of his grievances. He had no teeth, and the cook no 
soft bread, and he said it was impossible to sail in a vessel not provid- 
ed with the means of baking fresh bread ; that such an arrangement 
existed on board all the French ships ; and that he could not eat the 
American biscuit. Tlie captain coolly, told him, ''There is my beef, 
and there is my bread ; and if you are not satisfied with my fare, you 
can leave the ship." The impatient planter, unwilling to relinquish 
the chance of revisiting his native country, thought it better to risk his 
teeth rather than disembark, and continued on board. There were 
many steerage passengers, Germans and Alsatians, emigrating to the 
United States. The ship left the Elbe on the 24th of Septembe'i% 1796, 
and after a pleasant passage of twenty-seven days, arrived at Philadel- 
phia. Shortly before entering the Capes of the Delaware, the duke, 
unwilling that the captain should learn his true character from public 
report after reaching his destination, disclosed to him who he was. 
The captain expressed his gratification at the communication, and 
frankly stated, that the circumstances under which he had come on 



16 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 

board had produced an impression upon his mind unfavorable to his 
young passenger; that in striving to conjecture what could be his true 
position, he had come to the conclusion that he was a gambler who 
had committed himself in some gambling speculations, and that he was 
seeking secrecy and refuge in the new world. The chances of luck 
had indeed been against his new acquaintance, and he had lost a great 
prize in the lottery of life ; but he had preserved those better prizes — 
an approving conscience, and an unblemished reputation. The other 
passenger, the St. Domingo planter, remained in ignorance of the name 
of his cabin companion, till he learned it in Philadelphia, when he 
called to make known his surprise, and to tender his compliments. 

RESIDENCE AND TRAVELS IN AMERICA. 

The Duke of Orleans, having arrived in the United States in the 
November following, was joined by his brothers, Montpensier and 
Beaujolais, after they had encountered a stormy passage of ninety-three 
days from Marseilles. The reunited princes now took up their resi- 
dence together in Philadelphia, and there they passed the winter, 
mingling in the society of the place, and forming many agreeable ac- 
quaintances. Philadelpliia was at that time the seat of the federal 
government, and General Washington was at the head of the adminis- 
tration. The three young strangers were presented to him, and were 
invited to visit Mount Vernon after the expiration of his term of ser- 
vice. The duke was present at the last address delivered by General 
Washington to Congress, and also at the inauguration of Mr. Adams, 
when his venerable predecessor joyfully took his leave of public life. 

During the season, the Duke of Orleans and his brothers visited 
Mount Vernon, passing through Baltimore, where he renewed an ac- 
quaintance previously formed in Philadelphia with General Smith ; and 
crossing the site of the present city of VVashington, where he was hos- 
pitably received by the late Mr. Law, and where he met the present 
General Mason of Georgetown. This most respectable man is well 
remembered by the king, who loves to speak of the hospitality of his 
house, and of his personal kindness — evinced, among other circum- 
stances, by his accompanying his three young guests in a visit to the 
falls of the Potomac. From Georgetown the party passed through Al- 
exandria, and thence went to Mount Vernon, where they were most 
kindly received, and there they resided some days. 

While at Mount Vernon, General Washington prepared for the ex- 
iled princes an itinerary of a journey to the w^estern country, and fur- 
nished them vvith some letters of introduction for persons upon the 
route. They made the necessary preparations for a long tour, which 
they performed on horseback, each of them carrying in a pair of sad- 
dle-bags, after the fashion of that period, whatever he might require in 
clothes and other articles for his personal comfort. The travelling-map 
of the three princes is still preserved, and furnishes convincing proof 
that it has passed through severe service. The various routes followed 
by the travellers are strongly depicted in red ink ; and by their extent 
and direction, they show the great enterprise displayed by three young 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 



17 



strangers to acquire a ju^it knowledge of the country, at a time when 
the difficulties of travelling over a great part of the route were enough 
to discourage many a hardy American. Louis-Philippe, in not long 
since showing this map to an American gentleman, mentioned that he 
possessed an°accurate account, showing the expenditure of every dol- 
lar he disbursed in the United States. It is an example of business 
habits worthy of all praise and imitation. This attention to the impor- 
tant concern of personal expenditure was one of the characteristic fea- 
tures of Washington ; and both of these celebrated men were, no 
doubt, penetrated with the conviction that punctuality is essential to 
success. 

At the period in which the journey of the princes was performed, 
the back settlements of the United States were in a comparatively rude 
condition, and could not be traversed without undergoing many hard- 
ships. The inns, in particular, were few and far distant from each 
other, and their keepers, in many cases, churlishly independent and 
overbearing. Taking the road by Leesburg and Harper's Ferry to 
Winchester, the duke and his brothers dismounted at a house kept by a 
Mr. Bush, where they experienced an unpleasing instance of incivility. 
Mr. Bush was from Manheim on the Rhine, and the Duke of Chartres 
having recently visited that city, and speaking German fluently, a bond 
of communication was established between them, and the landlord and 
the traveller were soon engaged in an interesting conversation. This 
took place while the necessary arrangements were making to provide 
a substantial meal for the hungry guests, and probably, also, for others 
who were waiting for the same indispensable atlention. One of the 
younger brothers was indisposed, and" the elder suggested to his land- 
lord a wish that his party might be permitted to eat by themselves. 
But oh the vanity of human expectations ! Such a proposition had 
never been heard in the whole valley of Shenandoah, and least of all 
in the mansion of Mr. Bush. The rules of his house had been attack- 
ed, and his professional pride wounded ; the recollections of Manheim, 
and the pleasure of hearing his native language, and the modest con- 
versation of the young strangers, were all thrown to the wind, and the, 
offended dignitary exclaimed, " If you are too good to eat at the same 
table with my other guests, you are too good to eat in my house — 
begone 1" And notwithstanding the deprecatory tone which the duke 
immediately took, his disavowal of any intention to offend, and his 
offer to eat where it would be agreeable to this governor of hungry 
appetites that these should be assuaged, the young men were compell- 
ed to leave the house, and to seek refuge elsewhere. 

Our adventurers turned their backs on Mr. Bush and Winchester, 
and proceeded on their journey. When traversing a district called 
the Barrens, in Kentucky, the duke and his brothers stopped at a 
cabin, where was to be found " entertainment for man and horse," 
Bnd where the landlord was very solicitous to ascertain the business of 
the travellers — not apparently from any idle curiosity, but because he 
seemed to feel a true solicitude for them. It was in vain, however, 
the duke protested they were travelling to look at the country, and 
without any view to purchase or settlement. Such a motive for en- 
2* 



18 LIFE OF LOIJIS-PHILirPE. 

countering the trouble and expense of a long journey, was beyond the 
circle of the settler's observation or experience. In the night, all the 
travellers were disposed upon the floor of the cabin, with their feet 
towards a prodigious fire, the landlord and his wife occupying a punch- 
eon bedstead, pinned to the logs forming the side of the mansion. The 
duke, in a moment of wakefulness, was amused to overhear the good 
man expressing to his wife his regret that three such promising young 
men should be running uselessly over the country,and wondering they 
did not purchase land there, and establish themselves creditably. 

At Chilocothe the duke found a public house kept by a Mr. M'Don- 
ald, a name well known to the early settlers of that place ; and he was 
a witness of a scene which the progress of morals and manners has 
since rendered a rare one in that place, or, indeed, throughout the 
well-regulated state of Ohio. He saw a fight between the landlord 
and some one who frequented his house, in which the former would 
have suffered, if the duke had not interfered to separate the combat- 
ants. 

Arriving at Pittsburg, a town rising into importance at the head of 
the Ohio, the travellers rested several days, and formed an acquaint- 
ance with some of the inhabitants. From Pittsburg they travelled to 
Erie, and thence down the shore of the lake to Buffalo. On this jour- 
ney they lighted on a band of Seneca Indians, to whom they were in- 
debted for a night's hospitality ; for there were then few habitations 
but Indian wagwams upon the borders of the American lakes, and still 
fewer vessels, except birch canoes, which sailed over their waves. 
Among this band was an old woman, taken prisoner many a long year 
before, and now habituated to her fate, and contented with it. She was 
a native of Germany, and yet retained some recollection of her native 
language and country ; and the faint, though still abiding feeling which 
connected her present with her past condition, led her to take an inter- 
est in the three young strangers who talked to her in that language 
and of that country, and she exerted herself to render their short resi- 
dence among her friends as comfortable as possible. The chief as- 
sured the travellers that he would be personally responsible for every 
article they might entrust to his care ; but that he would not answer 
for his people unless this precaution was used. Accordingly, every 
thing was deposited with the chief, saddles, bridles, blankets, clothes, 
and money ; all which being faithfully produced in the morning, the 
day's journey was commenced. But the party had not proceeded far 
upon their route, when they missed a favorite dog, which they had not 
supposed to be included in the list of contraband articles requiring a 
deposit in this aboriginal custom-house, and had therefore left it at lib- 
erty. He was a singularly beautiful animal, and having been the com- 
panion in imprisonment of the two younger brothers at the castle of 
St. Jean, they were much attached to him. The duke immediately 
returned to seek and reclaim the dog; and the chief, without the 
slightest embarrassment, said to him, in answer to his representations, 
" If you had intrusted the dog to me last night, he would have been 
ready for you this morning; but we will find him." And he imme- 
diately virent to a kind of closet, shut in by a board, and on his remov- 
ing this, the faithful animal leaped out upon his masters. 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 19 

Scarcely resting at Buffalo, they crossed to Fort Erie on the British 
side, and then repaired to the Falls of Niagara. This j^rand natural 
object, as may be supposed, engaged the careful exannination of the 
princes, and one of them, the Duke of Montpensier, who excelled in 
drawing, made a sketch of the cataract for his sister. The partv then 
proceeded to Canandaigua, through a country almost in a state of na- 
ture. In one of the worst parts of this worst of roads, they met Mr. 
Alexander Baring, the present Lord Ashburton, whom the duke had 
known in Philadelphia. 

Continuing their route to Geneva, they procured a boat, and em- 
barked upon the Seneca Lake, which they ascended to its head ; and 
from hence they made their way to Tioga Point, upon the Susquehan- 
nah — each of the travellers cerrying his baggage, for the last twenty- 
five miles, upon his back. From Tioga the party descended the river 
in a boat to Wilkesbarre, and thence they crossed the country to 
Philadelphia. 

While residing in this oily, the Duke of Montpensier wrote a letter 
to his sister, Mademoiselle d'Orleans, (dated August 14, 1797,) from 
which the following extract has been published, giving an account of 
the journey which the writer and his brothers had lately performed : 

" 1 hope you received the letter which we wrote you from Pittsburcr 
two months since. We were then in the midst of a great journey, that 
we finished fifteen days ago. It took us four months. VVe travelled 
during that time a thousand leagues, and always upon the same horses, 
except the last hundred leagues, which we performed partly by water, 
partly on foot, partly upon hired horses, and partly by the stage or 
public conveyance. We have seen many Indians, and we renaained 
several days in their country. They received us with great kindness, 
and our national character contributed not a little to this good recep- 
tion, for they love the French. After them we found the Falls of 
Niagara, which I wrote you from Pittsburg we were about to visit, the 
most interesting object upon our journey. It is the most surprising and 
majestic spectacle 1 have ever seen. It is a hundred and thirty-seven 
(French) feet high; and the volume of water is immense, since it is 
the whole river St. Lawrence which precipitates itself at this place. I 
have taken a sketch of it, and intend to paint a picture in water colors 
from it, which my dear little sister will certainly see at our tender 
mother's; but it is not yet commenced, and will take me much time 
for truly it is no small work. To give you an idea of the agreeable' 
manner in which they travel in this country, 1 will tell you, my dear 
sister, that we passed fourteen nights in the woods, devoured by all 
kinds of insects, after being wet to the bone, without being able to dry 
ourselves ; and eating pork, and sometimes a liule salt beef, and corn 
bread." 

During the residence of the Duke of Orleans and his brothers in 
Philadelphia, the city was visited by yellow fever — a fatal epidemic 
but from which the unfortunate princes found it impossible to fly, on 
account of a lack of funds. From this unpleasant and perilous dilem- 
ma they were happily relieved in the course of September, by a remit- 
tance from their mother. With a purse thus opportunely reinforced, 



20 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 

they now undertook another excursion, which this time led them to the 
eastern part of the United States, finally arriving in New York. Here 
the brothers learned that a new law had just decreed the expulsion of 
all the members of the Bourbon family yet remaining in France from 
that country ; and that their mother had been deported to Spain. Their 
object was now to join her ; hut, owing to their peculiar circumstances, 
and to the war between England and Spain, this object was not easily 
attained. To avoid the French cruisers upon the coast, they deter- 
mined to repair to New Orleans, and there to find a conveyance for 
Havana, whence they thought they could reach the mother country. 
They set out, therefore, for Pittsburg on the lOth of December, 1797; 
and upon' the road, fatigued with travelling on horseback, they pur- 
chased a wagon, and, harnessing their horses to it, and placing their 
luggage within, they continued their route more comfortably. They 
arrived at Carlisle on Saturday, when the inhabitants of the neighbor- 
ing country appeared to have entered the town for some purpose of 
business or pleasure, and drove up to a public house, near which was 
a trough for the reception of the oats which travellers might be dispos- 
ed to give their horses, without putting them into the stable. A quan- 
tity of oats was procured by the party, and poured into the trough; 
and the bits were taken from the horses' mouths, to enable them to eat 
freely. The duke took his position in the wagon, looking round him ; 
when the horses being suddenly frightened, ran away with the wagon, 
which, passing over a stump, was upset and broken. The duke was 
thrown out, and somewhat injured. In early life, as we have seen, he 
had learned to perform the operation of bleeding. Immediately per- 
ceiving that his situation required depletion, and making his way, as 
he best could, to the tavern, he requested pei'mission of the landlord 
to perform the operation in his house, and to be furnished with linen 
and water. The family was kind, and supplied him with everything 
he require^d ; and he soon relieved himself by losing a quantity of 
blood. The circumstances, however, had attracted general attention, 
in consequence of the accident to the wagon, and of the injury to the 
traveller, and still more from the extraordinary occurrence of self- 
bleeding ; and a large crowd had collected in the tavern to watch the 
result of the operation. It is probable the curious spectators thought 
he was a Yankee doctor going to the west to establish himself, and to 
vend medical skill and drugs. Apparently well satisfied with the sur- 
gical ability which the stranger had just displayed, they proposed to 
him to remain at Carlisle, and to commence there his professional 
career, promising to employ him, and assuring him that his prospect 
of success would be much more favorable than in the regions beyond 
Ihe mountains. 

When our party reached Pittsburg, they found the Monongahela fro- 
zen, but the Alleghany open. They purchased a keel-boat, then lying 
in the ice, and with much labor and difficulty transported it to the point 
where the two rivers meet and form the Ohio. There the party em- 
barked on that river, which ihey descended along with three persons 
to aid them in the navigation. Before arriving at Wheeling, the river 
became entirely obstructed by the ice, and they were compelled to 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 21 

land and remain some days. They found Major F., an officer of the 
United States army, charged with despatches for the posts below, de- 
tained at the same place. On examining the river from the neit^hbor- 
ing hills, they ascertained that the region of ice extended only about 
three, miles, and kept themselves prepared to take advantage of the 
first opening which should appear. This soon came, and they passed 
through, and continued their voyage ; but Major F., who had not been 
equally alert, missed the opportunity, and remained blockaded. He 
did not reach the lower part of the river till three weeks after our 
travellers. 

At Marietta the party stopped and landed, and a circumstance con- 
nected with this event shows the extraordinary memory which Louis- 
Philippe possesses. A few years ago he asked an American gentle- 
man if he was ever in Marietta. As it happened, this gentleman had 
spent some years in the early part of his life there, and was able to 
answer in the affirmative. "And do you know," said the king, " a 
French baker there named Thierry.?" The gentleman knew him 
perfectly well, and so answered the inquiry. " Well," said the king, 
" I once ran away with him " — and then proceeded to explain, that, 
in descending the Ohio, he had stopped at Marietta, and gone into the 
town in search of bread. He was referred to this same Mr. Thierry ; 
and the baker not having a stock on hand, set himself to work to heat 
his oven in order to supply the applicant. While this process was 
going on, the prince walked over the town, and visited the interesting 
ancient remains which are to be found in the western part of it, near 
the banks of the Muskingam, and whose history and purposes have 
given rise to such various and unsatisfactory speculations. The prince 
took a sketch of some of these works, which are indeed among the 
most extensive of their class that are to be found in the vast basin of 
the Mississippi. On his return he found the ice in the Muskingam on 
the point of breaking up, and Mr. Thierry so late in his operations, 
that he had barely time to leap into the boat with his bread, before 
they were compelled to leave the shore, that they might precede the 
mass of ice which was entering the Ohio. The bak^er thus carried 
off bore his misfortune like a philosopher; and though he mourned 
over the supposed grief of his faithful wife, he still urged the rowers 
to exert themselves, in order to place his young countrymen beyond 
the chance of injury. They were finally successful ; and after some 
time, Mr. Thierry was taken ashore by a canoe which they hailed, 
well satisfied with his expedition. The travellers continued their 
voyage, and met with but one accident. By the inattention of the 
helmsman, the boat struck a tree, and stove in her bows. All the 
crew, princes and hired men, went to work ; and after twenty-four 
hours, the damages were repaired, and they reached New Orleans in' 
safety on the 17th of February, 1798. 

" From this city they embarked on board an American vessel for 
Havana in the island of Cuba; and upon their passage they were 
boarded by an English frigate under French colors. Until the char- 
acter of the cruiser was ascertained, the three brothers were appre- 
hensive that they might be known and conducted to France. How- 



22 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 

ever, when it was discovered, on one side, that the visitor was an 
English ship, and, on the other, that the three young passengers were 
the princes of the house of Orleans, confidence was restored, and the 
captain hastened to receive them on board his vessel, where he treated 
them with distinction, and then conducted them to Havana. 

The residence of the wandering princes in Cuba was of no long 
duration. By the Spanish authorities they were treated with marked 
disrespect, and ordered to return to New Orleans. This, however, 
they declined to do, and proceeded to the Bahama islands, expecting 
thence to find their way to England. At this period the Duke of 
Kent was in the Bahamas, and kindly received the illustrious stran- 
gers, though he did not feel himself authorised to give them a passage 
to England in a British frigate. They were not discouraged, but 
sailed in a small vessel to New York, whence an English packet car- 
ried them to Falmouth. 

ARRIVAL IN EUROPE — MARRIAGE. 

The Duke of Orleans and his brothers arrived at Falmouth early 
in February, 1800, and readily obtaining the permission of govern- 
ment to land in the country, they proceeded to London, and shortly 
afterwards took up their residence on the banks of the Thames at 
Twickenham. Here the exiles had at length an opportunity of enjoy 
ing some repose in the midst of the best English society ; nor was the 
well-known hospitality of England lacking on this, as on all other oc- 
casions. The young princes were treated with the greatest kindness 
by all classes, from royalty downwards, and, by their unaffected 
manners, gained universal esteem. Neither the polite attentions of 
the English people, nor the splendors of London fashionable life, 
however, could obliterate the recollections of his mother from the 
heart of the Duke of Orleans; and the English government having 
allowed him and his brothers a free passage in a frigate to Minorca, 
they proceeded thither with the expectation of finding a means of 
passing over to Spain, in which country their parent was an exile and 
captive. This troublesome expedition, from the convulsed state of 
Spain at the period, proved fruitless, and they returned to England, 
again retiring to Twickenham. 

At their pleasant retreat here, the Duke of Orleans engaged with, 
zeal in the study of political economy and the institutions of Great 
Britain ; at times making excursions with his brothers to the seats of 
the nobility and interesting parts of the country, and from taste and 
habit, becoming almost an Englishman. The only pressing subject 
of concern was the infirm health of the Duke of Montpensier. With 
a somewhat weakly constitution, deranged by long and cruel confine- 
ment in prison, he had, since his first arrival in England, experienced 
a gradual sinking in bodily strength. Notwithstanding every effort of 
medicine to save him, this amiable and accomplished prince died, 
May 18, 1807. His remains were interred in Westminster Abbey, 
■where his tomb is marked by an elegant Latin epitaph, the joint com- 
position of the Duke of Orleans and General Dumouriez. To aggra- 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 23 

vate the loss, the health of Count Beaujolais, affected by the same 
treatment as that of his brother, began also to decline. Ordered by 
his physicians to visit a warmer climate, the duke accompanied him 
to Malta, and there he died in 1808. His body was consigned to the 
dust in the church of St. John at Valetta. 

Bereaved, and almost broken-hearted with his losses, the Duke of 
Orleans passed from Malta to Messina in Sicily, and by a kind invita- 
tion from King Ferdinand (of Naples), visited the royal family at 
Palermo. The accomplishments and misfortunes of the duke did not 
fail to make a due impression on the Neapolitan family, while he was 
equally delighted with the manner in which he was received by them. 
During his residence at Palermo, he gained the affections of the Prin- 
cess Amelia, the second daughter of the king, and with the consent 
of Ferdinand and the Duchess of Orleans, who fortunately was re- 
leased from her thraldom in Spain, and permitted to come to Sicily, 
their marriage took place in November, 1809. Restored to a long- 
lost mother, and at the same time endowed with an estimable wife, 
need we doubt that the happiness of the Duke of Orleans was com- 
»plete. Certainly it deserved to be so. 

_ In about six months after this event, the Duke of Orleans was in- 
vited by the regency of Spain to take a military command in that 
country, in order to assist in expelling the French imperial invaders. 
Desirous of pursuing an active and useful life, he obeyed the invita- 
tion ; but, to the disgrace of the Cortes, they refused to fulfil their 
deceitful promises, and after spending three months in attempting to 
gain redress, the duke returned to Palermo, where, on his landing, he 
had the pleasure to learn that the Duchess of Orleans had given birth 
to a son (September 2, 1810). 

POLITICAL CAREER — BECOMES KING. 

We have, in the preceding pages, briefly traced our hero from 
childhood to youth, and from youth to manhood. We have seen him 
in adversity, with scarcely bread to eat, or a house wherein to lay his 
head. We have seen him emerge from this period of misfortune, 
till he arrived in a country where his claims were recognised, and he 
not only found a home, but a companion, amiable, accomplished, and 
m every other way calculated to insure his happiness. We will now 
follow this remarkable man from his comparative obscurity in a for- 
eign land, to the country and home of his fathers, where, by the force 
of circumstances, he reached a station the highest which any earthly 
pov^rer can confer. 

The domestic tranquillity which the Duke of Orleans was enjoyin^ 
in Palermo was, in 1814, suddenly and unexpectedly interrupted by 
the arrival of intelligence that Napoleon had abdicated the throne, and 
that the Bourbons were to be restored to France. Being now en- 
abled to return to the country of his birth, and the inheritance of 
which civ:l discord had deprived him, the duke sailed from Sicily in 
a vessel placed at his disposal by Lord William Bentinck. On the 
18th of May he arrived in Paris, where in a short time he was in the 



24 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 

enjoyment of the honors due to his rank and talents. His first visit 
to the Palais Royal, which he had not seen since he parted with his 
father, and now his own by inheritance, is mentioned as having been 
marked by strong emotion 5 nor were his feelings less excited on 
beholding other scenes from which he had been banished since child- 
hood. 

The return of Napoleon in 1815 broke up his arrangements for 
settling in his newly-recovered home. He sent his family to Eng- 
land, and was ordered by the king, Louis XVIII., to take command of 
the army of tiie north. He remained in this situation until the 24th 
of March, 1815, when he gave up the command to the Duke of Tre- 
viso, and went to join his family in England, where he again fixed 
his residence at Twickenham. On the return of Louis XVUI. after 
the Hundred Days, an ordinance was issued, authorising, according 
to the charter as it then stood, all the princes of the blood to take 
their seats in the Chamber of Peers; and the duke returned to France 
in September, 1815, for the purpose of being present at the session. 
Here he distinguished himself by a display of liberal sentiments, 
which were so little agreeable to the administration, that he returned 
again to England, where he remained till 1817. He now returned to 
France, but was not again summoned to sit in the Chamber of Peers, 
and remained therefore in private lite, in which he displayed all the 
virtues of a good father, a good husband, and a good citizen. 

The education of his family now deeply engaged his attention. 
His eldest son was instructed, like his ancestor, Henry IV., in the 
public institutions of the country, and distinguished himself by the 
success of studies. His family has ever been a model of union, good 
morals, and domestic virtues. Personally simple in his tastes, order 
and economy were combined with a magnificence becoming his rank 
and wealth ; for the restoration of his patrimony had placed him in 
a state of opulence. The protector of the fine arts, and the patron of 
letters, his superb palace in Paris, and his delightful seat at Neuilly, 
were ornamented with the productions of the former, and frequented 
by the distinguished men of the age. 

While the Duke of Orleans was thus living the life of a quiet citi- 
zen, a new scene was opened in the drama of his singularly change- 
ful life. We here allude to the Revolution of 1830, the intelligence 
of which struck every nation in Europe with surprise. Yet such an 
event was not altogether unlooked for. The elder family of the 
Bourbons, who had been restored by force of foreign arms to the 
throne of their ancestors, are allowed by their best friends to have 
conducted themselves in a manner little calculated to insure the at- 
tachment of the French people. The final blow levelled at the con- 
stitution by Charles X., and the Prince de Polignac, with the rest of 
his ministers, was unquestionably one of the maddest acts of which 
history presents any account. The facts of the case were as fol- 
lows : 

The Chamber of Deputies was dissolved in May, (1830,) and a 
new election ordered to take place in the latter part of June and in 
•luly. All the returns of the new elections indicated a strong majority 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 25 

against the ministry, who were not by any means popular. It is the 
well-known practice in European constitutional governments, that in 
such cases as this the king changes his ministers, in order to bring 
the executive into harmony with the legislature. Charles X. ventured 
on reversing this practice. Instigated by advisers and followers, who 
afterwards deserted him, he resolved to retain his ministers, and haz- 
ard a new election on the principles of voting different from what the 
existing law prescribed, and by which he hoped to gain a majority in 
the Chamber. The newspapers generally having denounced these 
and other projects as a violation of the charter or compact of the king 
with his people, they became an object of attack, and it was resolved 
to place the press under such laws as would effectually prevent alt 
free discussion. Three ordinances were forthwith issued by royal 
authority. One dissolved the Chambers ; another arbitrarily pre- 
scribed a new law of election ; and the third suspended the liberty of 
the periodical press. This daring violation of the charter was viewed 
with consternation by the people. When the act became generally 
known in Paris on the 26th of July, the funds declined, the banks re- 
fused to discount bills, and the manufacturers discharged their work- 
men, which, of course, increased the discontent. Several newspapers 
appeared, in despite of the ordinances, on the 27th, and copies were dis- 
posed of by hundreds in the cafes, the reading-rooms, and the restau- 
rants. Journalists hurried from place to place, and shop to shop, to 
read them aloud, and comment upon them. The apparatus for print- 
ing the Tew^s, one of the most energetic of the liberal papers, was 
seized by an agent of police, aided by a detachment of mounted gen- 
darmerie. This and other acts of aggression served as a signal for 
revolt and revolution. In Great Britain, before such extreme meas- 
ures would be resorted to, the people would assemble peacefully, and 
petition or remonstrate; but in France, where public meetings of any 
kind are not tolerated without the consent of a chief magistrate, the 
people are practically denied the power of petitioning ; and hence 
one cause of their recourse to a violent means of redress. 

In the night of the 27th July, the streets and boulevards were barri- 
caded, and the pavements were torn up to serve as missiles. On the 
morning of the 28th, all Paris was in arms; the national guard ap- 
peared in their old uniform, and the tri-colored flag was displayed. 
By a singular infatuation, the government had taken no precaution to 
support its measures by a competent armed force. There were at 
most 12,000 soldiers in Paris, the garrison of which had just been 
diminished ; the minister of war, instead of bringing an army to bear 
on the capital, was occupied with administrative details; and M. de 
Polignac was regretting that he had no cash to invest in the public 
funds. To increase the mismanagement, no proper means were 
adopted to provide rations for the soldiers on duty in the streets. 

On the 28th, the fighting was considerable ; the infuriated populace 
firing from behind barricades, from house-tops, and from windows ; 
many of the trooi)s were disarmed; some were unwilling to fire on 
their countrymen, and some went openly over to the citizens. On 
the 29th, General Lafayette was appointed commander-in-chief of the 
3 



26 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE, 

national guard by the liberal deputies, and was received with enthu- 
siasm. The fighting was still greater this day ; and on the 30th, the 
Parisians gained the victory. From 7,000 to 8,000 persons were killed 
and wounded. It now became necessary to determine what form ot" 
government should be substituted for that which had been vanquished. 
The cause of the elder branch of the Bourbons was pronounced hope- 
less. The king was in effect discrowned, and the throne was vacant. 
In this emergency, the provisional government, which had risen out of 
the struggle, and in which Lafitte, Lafayette, Thiers, and other poli- 
ticians had taken the lead, turned towards the Duke of Orleans, whom 
it was proposed, in the first instance, to invite to Paris to become 
lieutenant-general of the kingdom, and afterwards, in a more regular 
manner, to become king. The Duke of Orleans, during the insur- 
rection, had been residing in seclusion at his country seat, and if 
watching the course of events, at least taking no active part in either 
dethroning his kinsman, or in contrivances for his own aggrandize- 
ment. 

M. Thiers and M, Scheffer, were appointed to conduct the negotia- 
tion with the duke, and visited Neuilly for the purpose. The duke 
was, however, absent, and the interview took place with the duchess 
and the Princess Adelaide, to whom they represented the dangers 
with which the nation was menaced, and that anarchy could only be 
averted by the prompt decision of the duke to place himself at the 
head of a nevv constitutional monarchy, M. Thiers expressed his 
conviction, " that nothing was left the Duke of Orleans but a choice 
of dangers, and that, in the existing state of things, to recoil from the 
possible perils of royalty, was to run full upon a republic and its inev- 
itable violences." The substance of the communication being made 
known to the duke, on a day's consideration he acceded to the re- 
quest, and at noon of the 31st came to Paris to accept the office which 
had been assigned him. On the 2d of August, the abdication of 
Charles X., and of his son, was placed in the hands of the lieutenant- 
general ; the abdication, however, being in favor of the Duke of Bour- 
deaux. On the 7th, the Chamber of Deputies declared the throne va- 
cant; and on the 8th, the Chamber went in a body to the Duke of 
Orleans, and offered him the crown, on terms of a revised charter. 
His formal acceptance of the offer took place on the 9ih, and is thus 
described by Louis Blanc : " A throne overshadowed with tri-colored 
flags, and surmounted with a crimson velvet canopy, was erected in 
the Palais Bourbon ; before it, was arranged three settees for the lieu- 
tenant-general and his two elder sons. A table covered with velvet, 
on which stood the pen and ink to be employed in signing the con- 
tract, separated the settee reserved for the prince from the throne, and 
typified the interval that lay between him and royalty. The Duke of 
Orleans made his entry to the sound of the Marseillaise [a popular 
air,] and the noise of cannon fired by the Invalids. When he had 
taken his place, he put on his hat, and desired the members of both 
Chambers to be seated. The prince now requested M. Casimer 
Perier, president of the Chamber of Deputies, to read the declaration 
of the 7th of August, which was to the effect that the throne was va- 



LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE. 27 

cant, de facto and de jure, and that it being indispensably needful to 
provide for the same, the Chambers of Deputies and Peers now invit- 
ed his royal highness, the Duke of Orleans, to become king. The 
lieutenant-general read his acceptance in these terms: 

" ' I have read with great attention the declaration of the Chamber of 
Deputies, and the act of adhesion of the Chamber of Peers. 1 have 
weighed and meditated every expression therein. I accept, without 
restriction or reservation, the clauses and engagements contained in 
that declaration, and the title of King of the French which it confers 
on me, and I am ready to make oath to observe the same.' The 
duke then rose, took off his glove, uncovered his head, and pro- 
nounced the form of oath handed to him, ' In the presence of God, 
I swear faithfully to observe the constitutional charter, with the modi- 
fications set forth in the declaration ; to govern only by the laws ; to 
cause good and exact justice to be administered to every one accord- 
ing to his right ; and to act in everything with the sole view to the in- 
terest, the welfare, and the glory of the French people.' " Louis- 
Philippe was now king. After signing the originals of the charter 
and the oath, he ascended the throne, from which he delivered an 
appropriate address on the occasion. He adopted the style and title 
o[ Louis-Philippe I., King of the French. The principle on which 
he attained this high office bears a close resemblance to that on which 
the house of Brunswick was called to the throne of Great Britain — 
the invitation of the people, to the exclusion of the legitimate or reg- 
ular line of monarchs. 

Two things were remarkable in the revolution of 1830, — the hero- 
ism of the people, and the imbecility of the ruling power. When 
news was brought to Charles at St. Cloud, on the 28th, that blood was 
flowing in the streets of Paris, he treated the intelligence with indiffer- 
ence ; when all was over, he was seized with abject despondency, 
and sinking under that bitterest and most utter hopelessness of soul, 
that afflicts the proud in their hour of dismay, his only thought was to 
humble himself beneath the hand of God. His act of abdication was 
unheeded by the Chambers. He and his family, including his grand- 
child, Henry, Duke of Bourdeaux, were tranquilly conducted out of the 
kingdom. The humiliation was the more complete, that his partisans, 
the friends of legitimacy, those who would now clamor for the restora- , 
tion of his family to the throne, shrunk from his cause. Over the 
whole of France there was not a hand lifted, except among the troops, 
who acted from the habit of duty, to support the falling fortunes of 
his house. 

Though considerably advanced in life, Louis-Philippe's constitution 
is vigorous. A handsome man while young, his frame is now bulky ; 
but there is much ease in his movements, and his whole carriage is 
marked by tliat happy address which good taste and the polished so- 
ciety in which he has moved, have enabled him to acquire. He is 
ready in conversation, and was affable to all who were introduced at 
his court. In the execution of his public duties he was prompt and ac- 
tive, and was said to exercise a degree of control over his ministry, 
which almost went beyond the bounds of constitutional monarchy. 



28 LIFE OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE, 

Since his accession to the kingly office, his perfect knowledge of 
English and other modern languages, has proved of incalculable ad- 
vantage in diplomacy, as well as in arriving at the true meaning of 
foreign intelligence. 

The court of France, under the auspices of the queen, was acknowl- 
edged to form a pattern for royalty. A kinder mother, or a more 
pious Christian is nowhere to be found. It could not fail to afford 
gratification to Louis-Philijipe, that his ancient preceptress and friend, 
Madame de Genlis, lived, though only for a short time, to see her be- 
loved pupil attain a station of which she had rendered him worthy. 
She died in Paris at the close of the year 1830, in the eighty-third 
year of her age. 

The greatest misfortune of the king's life, was the death of his 
eldest son, Ferdinand, Duke of Orleans, born 1810, who was killed 
by jumping from liis carriage, July, 1842. He married, in 1837, 
Helena, daughter of the Grand Duke of Mecklenburg Schwerin, — 
by whom he had two children, viz.: Louis-Philippe, (Count of Paris,) 
born Aug. 24, 1838, and now consequently ten years of age, and 
Robert-Philippe, Duke of Chartres, born 1840. 

The other sons of Louis-Philippe are : 

Louis, Duke of Nemours, born 1814, married Victoria Augusta, of 
Coburg, cousin of Prince Albert. 

Francis, Prince de Joinville, born 1818, Admiral of the French 
Navy, married Francisca, a sister of the Emperor of Brazil, and of 
the Queen of Portugal. 

Henry, Duke d'Aumale,late Governor of Algiers, born 1822 ; mar- 
ried to Carolina, cousin of the King of the Two Sicilies. 

Anthony, Duke of Montpensier, born 1824 ; married a sister of 
the Queen of Spain. 

The Ex-King had two daughters, one of whom is Louisa, Queen 
of Belgium, born 1812. The other was Marie Clementine, born 
1817, — died some years since. She was a patron of the arts, and 
a fine piece of sculpture from her own chisel, a " Joan of Arc," is in 
the palace at Versailles. 

Besides the young Count of Paris, there are two other claimants to 
the crown at this time, namely : first, the young Duke of Bordeaux, 
son of the Duke de Berri, and grandson to the late King, Charles X., 
who was of the elder branch of the Bourbon family, and brother of 
Louis XVI. and Louis XVIII. 

Second, Louis Napoleon, son of the late Louis Bonaparte, who vi^as 
for a while King of Holland. The mother of this prince was Hortense, 
daughter of Josephine, first wife of the Emperor Napoleon. 

The Princess Adelaide, sister to Louis-Philippe, a strong-minded 
woman, beloved by the Parisians on account of her beneficence to the 
poor, had much influence over her brother, and was invariably con- 
sulted by him on all important affairs. She died in December la^i. 




LA MART I NE . 



THE FEENCH REVOLUTION. 



FEBRUARY, 1848, 



FEW short weeks ago Louis-Philippe was thought to be firmly 
seated upon his throne. He had an army of 360,000 men, 
thought to be devoted to him. Forts and navies secured him at 
home and abroad. Three-fourths of the Deputies were his tools ; 
the press was apparently humbled. He had firm, energetic Ministers 
— men of iron. True, some discontent was manifested on account of 
electoral corruption, and not a few cried for Reform ; and there was a 
rumor of a banquet, and of opposition, which the Ministers were to 
put down without trouble. Some thought that Louis-Philippe would 
be the last of his race who would occupy the throne ; but few, very 
few, dreamed that a Revolution would deprive him of his crown. But 
he is gone, and, with his family, is now an exile in a foreign land. 
His race have no prescriptive hold over France. His whole power 
dates from the Revolution of 1830, and it is not only gone suddenly 
3* 



30 THE FRENCH KEVOLUTIOW. 

and totally, it has gone forever, without any apparent hope of ever 
again being restored. It has vanished like a scene shifted at a thea- 
tre. So sudden, so great, and so complete a change was never known 
before. 

One day a mighty Monarch, the next a fugitive from his native 
land. One day surrounded by a happy and prosperous family, with 
guards, and flatterers, and all the splendor of a court ; the next a 
wanderer, without support or consolation, and seeking the means of 
escaping from phantoms which his own terrors conjured up. Ro- 
mance and fable have nothing equal to this. There is nothing resem- 
bling it but that Eastern story of the Magician and the Sultan. Sur- 
rounded by his courtiers, the Sultan asked the magician for a proof 
of his art, and was told to plunge his head into a tub of water. He 
did so, and found himself transformed to a sick and crippled street 
porter, surrounded by misery and want. He went through a variety 
of sufferings that lasted apparently for years. In his agony he ex- 
claimed against the villain dervish ; he struggled and raised himself 
up, and there he was, the dervish still standing before him, and all his 
courtiers round about him. The adventures of two lives were gath- 
ered in that " drop of time." 

It would be useless to record here, at length, the causes of this 
great Revolution, which is destined to work such important changes 
not only throughout France, but throughout Europe, — a general cor- 
ruption in every ramification of the Government, and especially in the 
electoral colleges — the buying and selling of offices — the restriction 
of the liberty of the press — the refusal to allow the real wealth of 
the country, the mechanics and artisans, any participation in the Gov- 
ernment which they were obliged to support in splendor — or even to 
hear their complaints, were the just causes of Louis-Philippe's dis- 
grace. The tacts are familiar to us all. It would be equally useless 
to speculate upon the results of this great change, when events are 
so rapidly developing themselves. We can only hope, as lovers of 
our kind, that it will eventuate to great good instead of great evil to the 
nations of the old world — that they will break the chains that have 
so long bound them to slavery — and not, hy any excesses, give 
courage to the enemies of the rights of man. 

With this introduction I will now endeavor to give in as succinct a 
manner as possible an account of the great Revolution from Monday, 
Feb. 21, when it may be said it commenced, up to this time, when 
the Republic seemed to be completely established ; premising that the 
immediate cause of the explosion was the avowed determination of the 
Government to prevent the assembling of the opposition Deputies and 
the people to a Reform Banquet, which had been appointed for the 
next day. 

Monday^ Feb. 21. — From the conduct of the Government in ref- 
erence to the event, (the Reform Banquet,) it would seem as though 
they courted a collision with the people. The Opposition Deputies 
disappointed them. They, in consequence of the ministerial prohi- 
bition, abandoned the intention of holding a banquet, and exhorted 
the people to submission. 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 31 

It had been confidently stated that no obstacles would be placed by- 
Government in the way of the Reform Banquet. Such had been their 
intention until the publication of the manifesto of the committee. 
The determination of Government not to allow the banquet was made 
known in the chamber on Monday evening. The debate which was 
on the Bordeaux Bank Bill, had attracted but few members, when 
suddenly, at a little before five o'clock, the doors of the Chamber 
were thrown open, and 250 deputies rushed to their places. 

In five minutes the Chamber, empty before, was filled in every 
part. It appeared that at a meeting of the deputies and electors who 
were to take part in the manifestation of Tuesday, a report had been 
suddenly and most unexpectedly circulated that Government had, at 
the eleventh hour, resolved to adopt measures of severe coercion ; and 
M. Odillon Barrot, wishing to clear this up, put the question to minis- 
ters. 

M. Duchate! stated in the most explicit and unequivocal terms, that 
after the formal declaration and programme which had been pub- 
lished in the morning in the opposition journals, the Government had 
decided to resort to measures of force to prevent the proceedings as 
announced from taking place. 

Immediately after the Chamber adjourned, a meeting of the depu- 
ties took place at the house of M. Odillon Barrot, and a resolution was 
taken, which was afterwards made public, that the Opposition, not 
wishing to take directly or indirectly the responsibility for the conse- 
quences which may result from the new measures adopted by the 
Government, had resolved not to attend the proposed banquet. A 
proclamation to this effect was published by the committee on Mon- 
day night ; and one from the Prefect of Police, forbidding the meet- 
ing, on the grounds assigned in the Chamber by M. Duchatel, ap- 
peared at the same time. 

During the night, between Monday and Tuesday, military wagons 
and artillery caissons, escorted by cavalry, were incessantly passing 
along the line of the Boulevards which connects Vincennes with the 
quarter of the Tuileries and Chamber of Deputies. The garrisons of 
Paris had been increased to 100,000 men. Orders were given to 
concentrate the troops about the Chamber of Deputies on Tuesday 
morning. Each company of infantry carried, beside their usual 
arms, a collection of implements for cutting down barricades, such 
as hatchets, ])ickaxes, adzes, &c. These were tied upon the knap- 
sack, each soldier carrying one. 

Tuesday, Feb. 22. — At an early hour troops were everywhere in 
movement, and immense numbers of people began to assemble. In 
front of the Chamber of Deputies, 6,000 men, in blouses, (cotton 
frocks,) had gathered. All the avenues were guarded by Municipal 
Guards and troops of the line. Two squadrons of cavalrv and a bat- 
talion of infantry were ordered to clear the area in front of the Cham- 
bers, as also the bridge of La Concorde. The people quickly retired 
singing the Marseilles Hymn, and other patriotic songs. Being joined 
by another dense column, they proceeded to the residence of M. 
Guizot, and began to throw stones. A body of Municipal Guards de- 



32 THE FKENCH REVOLUTION. 

liberately loaded their guns. The troops showed great forbearance. 
The Commissary of Police called on the people to disperse ; but 
they continued to annoy the officers, and occasionally cried, "Fiwe la 
Ligne!"" to flatter the soldiers. 

It was singular to observe in most respects the perfectly similar 
appearance of that quarter to-day, and the same hour, July 27, 1S30. 
The same species of attack on the hotel of the Minister of Foreign 
Affairs, (M. de Polignac) — the same measures of repression — the 
same expression of hatred towards the Minister on the part of the 
people — the same air of severity on the countenances of the gend- 
armes. A horse-soldier ordered a man to move on, telling him that if 
he did not, he would cut him down. The man, folding his arms, and 
looking sternly at the soldier, replied, " Would you, coward ? " The 
troops rode off. An incident of the same kind occurred there in 
1830. 

Similar scenes occurred in other parts of the city ; and in some in- 
stances the Municipal Guards were driven into their barracks by the 
mob. In the early part of the day no serious apprehensions were 
entertained of a popular commotion. Nevertheless, barricades were 
thrown up, and the soldiers manifested great repugnance to the dis- 
charge of the painful duties they were obliged to perform. In S.pite 
of occasional disaster, the people preserved their good nature, but con- 
tinued to block up the squares and streets, especially inthe vicinity of 
the Chamber of Deputies. At one o'clock several squadrons of the 
municipal cavalry arrived, and the populace was desired to disperse. 
This order being disregarded, the charge was sounded, and the drag- 
oons rushed on the people. A first effort was made to disperse the 
crowd by the mere force of the horses, without the use of arms, and 
the dragoons did not draw. This, however, proving ineffectual, sev- 
eral charges with drawn swords were made, the flat of the sword only 
being used. By these means the multitude was at length dispersed, 
without any loss of life or injury that we could hear of. At one 
o'clock, the main thoroughfares were clear. During the remainder 
of the day, the principal streets were patroled by the cavalry of the 
municipal guard, the infantry of the line keeping clear the footways. 

At the meeting of the Chambers at one o'clock, the greatest gloom 
prevailed. Few Deputies were in attendance, and the benches of the 
Opposition were completely vacant. M. Guizot arrived at an early 
hour, and was shortly afterward followed by the Ministers of Finance, 
Public Instruction, and Commerce. Marshal Bugeaud, who had ac- 
cepted the military command of Paris, took his seat close to the Min- 
isterial Bench. 

At three o'clock, M. Odillon Barrot entered the hall, accompanied 
by Messrs. Duvergier d'Hauranue, Marie, Thiers, Gamier Pages, 
&c. ' Their appearance produced some sensation. MM. Dupin, La- 
martine, Billault, Cremieux, and the Ministers of the Interior and Jus- 
tice next made their appearance, but the discussion on the Bank Bill 
continued until five o'clock, and no incident of interest occurred. 

When the discussion terminated, M. Odillon Barrot ascended the 
tribune, and deposited on the table the following formal act of im- 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. dd 

peachment against Ministers, signed by the Deputies of the Opposition 

to the number of 53. 

We propose to place the Minister in accusation as guilty — 

1. Of having betrayed abroad the honor and the interests of France. 

2.. Of having falsified the principles of the Constitution, violated the 

guarantees of liberty, and attacked the rights of the people. 

3. Of having, by a systematic corruption, attempted to substitute, 
for the free expression of public opinion, the calculations of private 
interests, and thus perverted the Representative Government. 

4. Of having trafficked for Ministerial purposes in public offices, as 
vi'ell as in all the prerogatives and privileges of power. 

5. Of having, in the same interest, wasted the finances of the State, 
and thus compromised the forces and grandeur of the kingdom. 

6. Of having violently despoiled the citizens of a right inherent to 
every free Constitution, and the exercise of which had been guaran- 
teed to them by the Charter, by the laws, and by former precedents. 

7. Of having, in fine, by a policy overtly counter-revolutionary, 
placed in question all the conquests of our two Revolutions, and thrown 
the country into a profound agitation. 

[Here follow the signatures — M. Odillon Barrot at the head.] 

M. Genoude submitted in his own name, a proposition of accusation 
against the ministers, conceived in these terms: 

Whereas the minister, by his refusal to present a project of law for 
electoral reform, has occasioned troubles, I propose to put in accusa- 
tion the President of the Council and his colleagues. 

The President raised the sitting without reading it, but announced 
that it should be submitted to the approbation of the Bureaux on 
Thursday. The House then adjourned. 

In the evening the greatest alarm and disorganization existed in 
Paris. The demonstrations of the day had not, however, produced 
many lamentable results. Several municipal guards were injured by 
stones. A sub-officer of that corps was killed, and two soldiers 
wounded. Several gunsmiths' and armorers' shops were reported 
to have been attacked. 

Wednesday, Feb. 23. — The barricades thrown up the previous day 
had been, during the night, everywhere demolished. The people 
again commenced throwing up barricades, but they were promptly 
removed by the military in divers streets; and the attitude of the 
populace — the National Guard in many instances fraternizing with 
them — grew hourly more menacing until toward evening a rumor 
of the resignation of the Ministry stopped the current of popular fury, 
and induced a pause. It was in the Chamber that the most important 
scene occurred. 

A deputation of officers of the National Guard, most of them be- 
longing to the fourth Legion, had made their way through the Place 
de' la Concorde, where an immense crowd had congregated about 
noon, and across the bridge to the Chamber of Deputies, for the pur- 
pose of presenting a petition to the Chamber in favor of reform. The 
battalion of the tenth Legion on duty at the Chamber of Deputies im- 
mediately took up arms, and went to meet the approaching party with 
cheers. 



34 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

At the middle of the Pont de la Concorde the two columns met. 
General Trezel, the Minister of War, who accompanied the battalion 
of the tenth Legion, addressed the advancing party, and remonstrated 
with them on the unconstitutional nature of their proceedings, and the 
commander of the tenth declared that he would not allow the peti- 
tioners to pass. 

M. Odillon Barrot and M. Gamier Pages then went forward for the 
purpose of communicating with the advancing party, but on some 
representations being made to them, they thought it wise to retire. 
They returned to the Chamber, and the petition was consequently not 
presented. On their entering, the aspect of the Chamber was calm, 
but evidently occupied with what was passing without. The mem- 
bers of the Left assembled in great numbers, and were convening in 
groups. 

M. Vavin, deputy for the Seine, first addressed the Chamber, de- 
manding of the Minister of the Interior, in the name of his colleagues, 
explanation and information as to what had occurred. 

The Minister of Foreign Affairs stated that he did not think it prop- 
er to enter into any explanation on the subject. As long as his Min- 
istry remained in office, he should cause public order to be respected 
according to the best of his judgment, as he had hitherto done. 

After some interruption, created by this announcement, M. Odillon 
Barrot rose, and said : In consequence of the situation of the Cabinet, 
I demand the adjournment of the proposition which I made yesterday, 
(the impeachment.) (Loud cries of "Yes, yes," and " No, no.") 
I will submit to the decision of the Chamber on the point. (No, no). 

Dupin and Guizot then addressed the Chamber, after which the 
President put the question as to the adjournment of M. Odillon Bar- 
rot's proposition. One hundred members supported the adjournment ; 
the Conservatives voted against it. 

The Chamber immediately rose in great agitation. 

When M. Guizot was entering the Chamber before announcing his 
resignation, the tenth Legion of the National Guard on duty saluted 
him with groans of " A bas Guizot." "Vive Louis-Philippe." M. 
Guizot looked annoyed, and passed on without making any remark. 
A minute afterwards M. Muret (de Bort) came out of the Chamber 
and announced that M. Guizot and his colleagues were out of office. 
The announcement was received with loud cheers, and immediately 
spread like wildfire. In less than half an hour it was known all over 
Paris. 

A very stormy conversation took place in the Chamber of Peers on 
the present state of Paris, but it led to no result. 

Everywhere the National Guards were fraternizing with the people. 

At half past three, the Marche des Innocents and the Faubourg St. 
Martin were the scenes of melancholy and unequal conflicts between 
the people and the Municipal Guards ; a volley fired by the latter 
wounded a great number. A strong patrol of National Guards were 
compelled to surrender their colors. 

At the Fille du Calvaire there was also fighting, several cannon 
shot having been fired in that street ; and the General commanding 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 35 

the troops (Peyronet Tiburce Sebastian!,) brother of the Marshal, is 
said to have been shot by a man en blouse. 

Ten of the people made prisoners by the troops were confined in 
the guard-house of the Boulevard des Bonnes Nouvelles, which has 
uniformly been taken by the people in every emeute. The people 
attacked it at five o'clock, disarmed the soldiers, discharged the musk- 
ets, and then returned them, liberating the prisoners. They carried 
off the flag that adorned the entrance, and presented it as a trophy to 
the 3d Legion of National Guards. The 5lh Regiment, which joined 
the people in July, 1830, was present during this affair, and again 
fraternized with the people. The people proceeded at five o'clock to 
the Prefecture of the Police, to liberate the prisoners confined there. 
On their way, they called at the Reforme newspaper office, and there 
were told that all was not over ; that the Banquet must take place, and 
that good care would be taken to secure their liberties. 

At three o'clock, M. Rambuteau, Prefect of the Seine, waited upon 
the King to inform him the Municipal Council had decided on demand- 
ing the resignation of the Ministry. The King immediately convoked 
a council of Ministers, and brought the subject before them. The 
Ministers replied, " Sire, renvoyez-nousy Having accepted their 
resignation, the King sent for M. Mole, who replied that he accepted 
of the " Ministege de I'Emeute." 

Towards half-past four, an officer of the Etat Major passed along 
the Boulevards, announcing the change of Ministry, and the appoint- 
ment of Count Mole to the Presidency of the Council. The feelings 
with which this announcement was received, showed that this conces- 
sion would not be deemed sufficient — that securities would be demand- 
ed for the future. " There shall be no mistake this time," was an 
exclamation heard in numberless groups. 

Nevertheless, there was a short interval of lull ; the firing had 
ceased ; the troops were everywhere returning to their barracks, and 
some hope might be entertained that all might yet terminate without 
further disaster, in the course of the evening, however, an incident 
occurred, which at once gave a fatal turn to the events of the day. 
As the crowd assembled before the hotel of the Minister of Foreign 
Affairs, and were uttering the usual cries, the soldiers fired without 
any previous notice, and fifty-two persons fell dead or wounded. A 
cry of vengeance was immediately uttered by the people, the victims 
of this abominable outrage, and several of them hastened into the 
neighboring streets, shouting " To arms ! To arms! We are being 
assassinated !" Shortly after, a cart arrived at the offices of the 
National, containing dead bodies. The vehicle was surrounded by 
people, who were weeping and full of indignation, and who showed 
the bloody bodies, crying, " They are assassins who have slain them ! 
We will avenge them ! Give us arms ! — arms !" The torches casting 
their glare by turns on the bodies and on the people, added to the 
violent emotions of the scene. M. Gamier Pages being at that moment 
in the office of the National, addressed the people. He promised 
that he would employ his efforts to obtain for the people thus attacked, 
the satisfaction which was required from their impious and atrocious 



36 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

Ministers. M. de Courtais, Deputy of the Opposition, hastened to 
Boulevard des Capucines, to inquire into the causes of this shameful 
butchery. lie ascertained that the Colonel of the regiment which 
had caused the firing to take place was in consternation at what had 
occurred. He thus explained what he called a deplorable imprudence. 
At the moment at which the crowd arrived, a bullet from a gun, 
which went off by accident in the garden of the hotel, broke the leg 
of the lieutenant-coloneTs horse. The officer commanding the de- 
tachment believed that it was on attack, and immediately, with a 
guilty want of reflection, commanded his men to fire. This officer 
was immediately placed in prison. Of this unfortunate incident 
another account is given, which attributes the firing of the soldiers 
to a spontaneous movement of their own, occasioned by seeing a 
young man walk up to the officer in command, and blow his brains 
out with a pistol. This account receives no corroboration, however, 
from the French papers, and is probably unfounded. 

The buzz of an approaching multitude was heard, and a long song 
of death. " Mourir pour la patrie," (Die for our country) was 
chanted by the throng, instead of the victorious Marseillaise. Mingled 
with this awful and imposing chorus, the noise of wheels could be 
heard. A large body of the people slowly advanced. Four in front 
carried torches. Behind them came an open cart, surrounded by 
torch-bearers. The light was strong, and discovered four or five dead 
bodies, partly undressed, which appeared to be carefully ranged in 
the cart. 

When the head of the column reached the corner of the Rue Le- 
pelletier, the song was changed to a burst of fury, which will not 
soon be forgotten by those who heard it. The procession halted at 
the office of the National, and the whole party burst into an unanimous 
shriek or cry of Vengeance. You know how sonorous is that word 
when pronounced in French. The dead bodies in the cart were those 
of the men who fell under the fire of the soldiers above mentioned. 

This event is a deplorable one. It may possibly change the issue 
of the affair. 

The night was an awful one. The noise of workmen broke on the 
stillness. Having heard a similar one in 1830, I guessed what was 
going on. Barricades — one immensely strong, at the end of the Rue 
Richelieu, were in progress of construction. Every tree on the 
whole line of the Boulevards has been felled. Every one of the 
superb lamp-posts has been thrown down, and converted into barri- 
cades. 

At the corner of every street is a barricade — gentlemen, shop-keep- 
ers, clerks, workmen, all laboring at the work with an eagerness and 
an earnestness beyond description. 

Thursday, Feb. 24. — Paris passed completely into the hands of the 
populace. The fall of the house of Orleans is inevitable. The peo- 
ple are not satisfied with " Reform'''' — they demand a change of 
Government. 

At the distance of 150 feet from the front of the Palais Royal, is 
the Chateau (fEau — a massive stone building, occupied at the time 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 37 

as a barrack, and at this moment garrisoned by 180 municipal guards. 
In most parts of the city, seeing that the troops fraternized with the 
people, the Government had given them orders not to fire. These 
guards, however, attacked the insurgents in and about the Palais Royal. 
Their fire was returned, and a desperate conflict ensued. The battle 
lasted for more than an hour — the people rushing in the very face of 
the muskets of the guard, as they blazed from the grated windows. 
At last the barrack was set on fire, and the guard yielded, though not 
till many of their number had fallen, and the rest were nearly dead 
with suffocation. The Chateau d'Eau is now a mere ruin, its mottled 
walls giving evidence of the shower of bullets that had been poured 
upon it. 

No sooner had the Chateau d'Eau surrendered, than the flushed 
victors took their course towards the Tuileries, which was near at 
hand ; shouting, singing, roaring, they came like a surge, bearing all 
before them. The Place du Carrousel was filled with troops, but not 
a sword was unsheathed — not a bayonet pointed — not a musket or a 
cannon fired. There stood, idle and motionless, the mighty arma- 
ment, which the King had appointed for his defence. How vain had 
his calculations proved — for alas, they were founded in a radical 
error. The soldiers would not massacre their brothers, to sustain a 
worthless thing — though it were the title of a croion. How pregnant 
is this fact, as to the future fate of monarchies ! 

At 2 o'clock the King abdicated, in favor of his grandson, 10 years 
of age. On leaving the palace, the King and his family proceeded to 
Neuilly under an escort of cuirassiers. 

Marshal Bugeaud has been named at once commander of the 
National Guard and of the troops of the line. 

In the Chamber of Deputies, at one o'clock, M. Sauzet took the 
chair, in the presence of about 300 members. Shortly afterwards it 
was stated that the Duchess of Orleans had arrived at the palace, with 
her two sons. The Princess soon appeared at the left door, accom- 
panied by the two princes, and the Dukes de Nemours and Montpen- 
sier. The young Count de Paris entered first, led by one of the mem- 
bers of the house. He penetrated with difficulty as far as the semi- 
circle, which was crowded with officers and soldiers of the National 
Guard. His presence produced a lively impression on the assembly. 
Almost immediately afterwards the Duchess entered, and seated her- 
self in an arm-chair between her two sons. 

The hall was then forcibly entered by a multitude of armed men 
of the lower orders and of the National Guard. The Princess and her 
children then retired to one of the upper benches of the centre, oppo- 
site the President's chair. 

The greatest agitation and uproar prevailed, and when silence was 
restored, M. Dupin rose and announced to the assembly that the King 
had abdicated in favor of his grandson, and conferred the Regency on 
the Duchess of Orleans. A voice from the public gallery : " it is too 
late." 

An indescribable scene of tumult ensued. A number of deputies 
collected round the Duchess and her children, and the Dukes de 
4 



38 THE FRENCH KEVOLITTION. 

Nemours and Montpensier. National Guards also rallied around the 
royal family. 

M. Marie then ascended the tribune ; his voice was drowned by 
deafening cries. When silence was restored, M. Marie said, that in 
the critical situation in which the capital was placed, it was urgently 
necessary to adopt some measures calculated to calm the population. 
Since morning the evil had made immense progress. Shall we pro- 
claim the Duke de Nemours or the Duchess of Orleans, Regent ? M. 
Cr^mieux, who followed, was of opinion to uphold the new Govern- 
ment. M. Genoude thought that an appeal ought to be made to the 
people. 

M. Odillon Barrot then ascended the tribune, and advocated the 
rights of the Duchess of Orleans. M. Larochejaquelin supported the 
appeal to the people. M. Lamartine, and M. Ledru Rolin insisted on 
the necessity of appointing a Provisional Government. M. Sauzet 
here put on his hat and concluded the sitting. The Princes retired, 
followed by all the members of the Centre [Government party] those 
of the Left [Opposition] alone remaining in the Hall. The insurgents 
then called, or rather carried M. Dupont de I'Eure to the Presidential 
chair. The tribune and ail the seats were occupied by the people 
and National Guards, and the names of the following members of the 
Provisional Government were proclaimed amidst a scene which has 
not been witnessed since the Convention : 

M. Gamier Pages, M. Marie, M. Lamartine, 

M. Arago, M. Ledru Rolin, M. Cremieux. 

This list was received with cries of ' Vive la Republique,' and the 
Assembly then adjourned to the Hotel de Ville to instal the Provisional 
Government. 

During these events, the insurgents had not been idle. Mr. Good- 
EiCH in an interesting letter to the Boston Courier, gives the follow- 
ing account of the revels in the Tuileries : 

" The Place de la Concorde was crowded with soldiers, and fifty 
cannon were ranged in front of the gardens. Yet this mighty force 
seemed struck with paralysis. Long lines of infantry stood mute 
and motionless, and heavy masses of cavalry seemed converted into 
so many statues. Immediately before the eyes of these soldiers was 
the Palace of the Tuileries in full possession of the mob, but not a 
muscle moved for their expulsion. 

Passing into the gardens, I perceived that thousands of persons were 
spread over their surface, and a rattling discharge of fire-arms was 
heard on all sides. Looking about for the cause of this, I perceived 
that hundreds of men and boys were amusing themselves with shoot- 
ing sparrows and pigeons, which had hitherto found a secure resting- 
place in this favorite resort of leisure and luxury. Others were 
discharging their muskets for the mere fun of making a noise. Pro- 
ceeding through the gardens, I came at last to the Palace. It had 
now been for more than an hour, in full possession of the insurgents. 
All description fails to depict a scene like this. The whole front of 
the Tuileries, one tenth of a mile in length, seemed gushing at doors, 
windows, balconies, and galleries, with living multitudes — a mighty 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 39 

bee-hive of men, in the very act of swarming. A confused hubbub 
filled the air, and bewildered the senses by its chaotic sounds. 

At the moment I arrived, the throne of the King was borne away 
by a jubilant band of revellers ; and after being paraded through the 
streets, was burned at the Place de la Bastile — a significant episode 
is this tale of wonders. The colossal statue of Spartacus, which 
faces the main door of the Palace, towards the gardens, was now dec- 
orated with a piece of gilt cloth, torn from the throne, and wreathed like 
a turban around his head. In his hand was a gorgeous boquet of arti- 
ficial flowers. It seemed as if the frowning gladiator had suddenly 
caught the spirit of the revel, and was about to descend from his pe- 
destal and mingle in the masquerade. 

1 entered the palace, and passed through the long suit of apart- 
ments devoted to occasions of ceremony. A year before I had seen 
these gorgeous halls filled with the great and the fair — the favored and 
the noble, gathered to this focal point of luxury, refinement and taste, 
from every quarter of the world. How little did Louis-Philippe, at 
that moment, dream of " coming events ! " How little did the 
stately queen — a proud obelisk of silk and lace and diamonds — fore- 
see the change that was at hand ; I recollected well the effect of this 
scene upcfti my mind, and felt the full force of the contrast which the 
present moment presented. In the very room, where I had seen the 
pensive and pensile Princess de Joinvilie and the Duchess of Mont- 
pensier — then fresh from the hymeneal altar — her raven hair stud- 
ded with a few diamonds like stars of the first magnitude — whirling 
in the mazy dance — I now -beheld four creatures like Caliban, 
gamboling to the song of the Marseillaise. 

On every side my eye fell upon scenes of destruction. Passing to 
the other end of the palace, I beheld a mob in the chambers of the 
princesses. Some rolled themselves in the luscious beds, — others 
anointing their heads with choice pomade — exclaiming, " Dieu — 
how sweet it smells ! " One of the Gamins, grimmed with gun- 
powder, blood and dirt, seized a tooth-brush, and placing himself be- 
fore a mirror, seemed delighted at the manifest improvement which 
he produced upon his ivory. 

In leaving the palace, I saw numbers of the men drinking wine 
from bottles found in the cellars; None of them was positively drunk 
— to use the words of Tam O'Shanter — " They were no* fou, hut 
just had plenty,'''' — perhaps a little more. They flourished their 
guns and pistols, brandished their swords, and performed various 
antics, — but they offered no insult to any one. They seemed in ex- 
cellent humor, and made more than an ordinary display of French 
politeness. They complimented the women, of which there was no 
lack — and one of them, seeming like a figure of Pan, seized a 
maiden by the waist, and both rigadooned merrily over the floor." 

The two palaces had been abandoned to pillage. The garden of 
the Tuileries was strewed with dresses, bonnets, music-books, and 
other lady's gear. The furniture had been nearly all burnt on three 
huge fires, the one in the Rue Rivoli, and the others on the quay. 
The cellar of the palace was filled with drunken rioters. 



40 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

Between the railing which separates the Tuileries from the Place 

de Carrousel, on which spot Louis-Philippe had, at nine o'clock, re- 
viewed a portion of the troops who were so soon to desert him, there were 
thousands of bloused and armed citizens in all stages of drunkenness. 
The same distaste for personal plunder had, however, been evinced by 
the people as that which had distinguished the Revolution of July ; and 
every man or woman who issued from the Tuileries was scrupulously 
searched by the guards stationed by the leaders of the populace at the 
gates. In the Palais Royal a similar scene had taken place. A huge 
fire kindled in the court had consumed the gilt chairs, paintings, cano- 
pies, sofas, settees, curtains and tables, which were hurled by the 
mob from the windows. Amongst these was the throne on which 
Louis-Philippe, for the first time, sat, as King of the French ere he 
took possession of the Palace Tuileries. It was thrust into the fire 
amid thunders of applause, and the charred and burning fragments 
were subsequently trampled under foot in savage sport. Some of the 
splendid draperies were borne in frantic triumph along the Boulevards. 
The Palace was gutted by the insurgents from garret to cellar. 

At five o'clock the Provincial Government issued a proclamation, 
announcing the final accomplishment of the Revolution, enjoining 
order, unanimity, and the organization of patrols by the citizens. 

After this tranquillity was restored, only to be disturbed by the 
cries of drunken persons who paraded the streets. 

In the taking of the Palais Royal and the Tuileries where the 
people fought with desperation, particularly in the court-yard of the 
former Palace, 500 persons are said to have been killed. It is esti- 
mated that, altogether, 1,000 persons have lost their lives in this 
Revolution. On taking the Tuileries the people found a mag- 
nificent image of Christ in sculpture. The people stopped and sa- 
luted it. 'My friends,' cried a pupil of the Ecole Polytechnique, 
' this is the master of us all ! ' The people took the Christ, and bore it 
solemnly to the church of St. Roch. 'Citizens, off with your hats. 
Salute Christ!' said the people; and every body reclined in a re- 
ligious sentiment. Noble people, who respect all that is sacred. 

Thus, after a reign of seventeen years and a half, fell Louis-Phil- 
ippe of Orleans, first King of the French. As a successful intriguer, 
called by a people to the throne from which the will of the same 
people had finally ejected him, he fell in the same fruitless struggle 
as that which had destroyed a preceding dynasty. 

Friday, Feb. 25. — A Republic has been proclaimed. The king 
and his family are gone to Eu. 

The Provisional Government already appointed has been confirmed. 
The following are Ministers : Dupont de I'Eure, President ; Lamar- 
tine. Foreign Affairs; Arago, Marine ; Ledru, Rolin, Interior ; Marie, 
Public Works ; Carnot, Public Instruction ; Bethmont, Commerce ; 
Lamorciere, War ; Garnier Pages, confirmed as Mayor of Paris ; 
Cavaignac, Governor of Algiers ; Decoutrias, Commandant of the Na- 
tional Guard. 

The first morning that dawned on the Republic, found Paris in an 
excited but perfectly peaceful state. The people all have arms, but 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. €1 

there is no disposition to use them. Many malefactors caught in steal- 
ing, have been summarily shot by the people, and in some instances 
been left on the spot, with " Voleur " (thief) affixed to them. 

Several proclamations have been issued congratulating the people on 
their victory ; abolishing the Chamber of Peers ; ordering food to be 
supplied to the people ; decreasing the hours of labor to 10 hours ; 
granting to the workmen remuneration for their labor ; announcing the 
surrender of the garrison of Vincennes ; ordering that all pledges of 
less than ten francs in the pawnbroker's shops, to be restored to the 
depositors, and charged to government ; entreating the workmen not to 
break up machinery, such as steam presses, etc. 

The Pont Louis-Philippe, an iron chain bridge, was destroyed to- 
day. All those streets bearing the names of the Royal family were to 
change their soubriquets to " Liberty," " Equality," etc. 

In the course of the night, M. Arago, as Minister of Marine, sent 
for all the admirals, and demanded of them if they were willing to 
serve the Republic. They answered, " All." Admiral Baudin, was 
appointed commander of the Toulon fleet. 

Thus ended the first day of the Republic. 

Saturday^ Feb. 26. — Several railway stations and bridges in the 
neighborhood of Paris, have been burned. The Republic is being 
proclaimed in all parts of France. Adhesions to the Republic from 
the most distinguished men continue to pour in, 

Sunday, Feb. 27. — To-day has been inaugurated the column of 
July, in presence of the National Guard and people. The con- 
course of people was immense. More than 100,000 troops were under 
arms, covering a distance of four miles. Lamartine rode a beautiful 
white charger, himself wearing a cocked hat, sword, epaulettes, and a 
coat trimmed with red. A proclamation announces, that all between 
the ages of 20 and 60, except those composing the National Guard, 
will be enrolled, and denominated the " Battalion of the Country." 
Two hundred thousand dollars have been subscribed for the wounded. 

PROCLAMATION. 

The Sovereign People declare, 

That the government, having betrayed its trust, is de facto and 
de jure dissolved. 

Consequently, 

The people resume the full exercise of their sovereignty, and de- 
cree as follows : 

The Chamber of Peers, which only represents the interests of the 
aristocracy, is suppressed. 

The Chamber of Deputies, which is the mere representative of privi- 
lege, monopoly, and corruption, and the majority of whose members 
have been participators in the unpardonable crime of the government 
which has subjected the citizens to a murderous fire, is hereby, and 
remains dissolved. 

The nation, from the present moment, is constituted a Republic. 

All citizens should remain in arms, and defend their barricades 

4» 



42 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

until they have acquired the (>njoyments of all their rights as citizens, 
and as operatives. 

Every citizen who has attained his majority is a National Guard. 

Every citizen is an elector. 

Absolute freedom of thought, and liberty of the press, right of politi- 
cal and industrial association, to be secured to all. 

As the government of the future can only respect the wishes and 
the interests of all classes, all Frenchmen should assemble together in 
the respective communes, in deliberative assemblies, in order to elect 
a new and real representative of the country. 

Until the nation has formally declared its will on this head, every 
attempt to restore obsolete powers must be deemed an usurpation, and 
it is the duty of every citizen to resist any such attempt by force ! 

Bretliren ! let us be calm and dignified, in the name of liberty, 
equality, and human fraternity! 

Mo7iday, Feh. 28, — One of the first acts of the Republic has been 
to abolish death for political offences. What a sublime example, to 
abolish the punishment of death for any political offence, among the 
first acts of a republican government under existing circumstances, 
and to have the announcement of that act received by tens of thousands 
of people with cheer upon cheer, until the voice of the speaker was 
drowned in that of the public, and himself taken in their arms and 
carried to his house. 

The American Minister has recognised the Republic. Mr. Rush 
waited upon the Provisional Government, and " hoped that the friend- 
ship of the two Republics might be coextensive with their duration." 
Arago replied in a felicitous manner. 

Tuesday and Wednesday, Feb. 29, and March 1. — Everything is 
quiet in the city, — occasional disturbances in the suburbs. All titles 
of nobility abolished. Albert, a workman, is a member of the Provis- 
ional Government. The archbishops are sending in their adhesions to 
the Republic. The Tuileries has been made a hospital. Jerome 
Bonaparte, the only brother of Napoleon, has sent in his adhesion, and 
been appointed Governor of the Hotel of the Invalides. 

Thursday, March 2. — The splendid palace of Neuilly, private prop- 
erty of the king, in the vicinity of Paris, has been burnt. It was set 
on fire, after the revolution had done its work, by thieves and robbers, 
for the joint purposes of destruction and plunder. There were millions 
in money, plate, &c., deposited there, besides a large quantity of wine, 
&c. But the brave polytechnics immediately rushed into the building 
with their forces, and took possession, with drawn swords, of all the 
valuables, which they removed wijh safety, while the robbers went 
into the wine cellars, and drank and quarrelled, till they got too drunk 
to do either, and then falling down, were burnt up with the flames 
which themselves had created ; and about one hundred dead bodies 
have been taken from the remains of the building. In Paris, there is, 
of course, a large number of criminals; and it is truly wonderful how 
they have been controlled and killed, and property and person pro- 
tected from their depredations, during such a revolution as that which 
has just taken place. Nothing but the most determined resolution and 



THE FRENCH KEVOLUTION. 43 

active vigilance on the part of the masses, could have effected this, for 
spectators could not distinguish, in such masses, between insurgents 
and thieves, and it is among the remarkable events of the age, that in 
such moments of excitement, when laboring men were fighting roy- 
alty, upon the result of which depended whether they should have a 
republic or a gallows for their reward, that they should turn aside to 
protect the king's property, which they had captured, and to execute 
robbers, who undertook to plunder. The masses, whose historians 
have described as needing a king to govern them, could not only gov- 
ern themselves without law, but the kingdom, at the same moment 
they were overthrowing its government, and conquering its troops, and 
taking possession of its palaces. I have spoken of the women who 
fought — they did so in great numbers, and fifteen or twenty wounded 
have been carried to the hospitals. This may seen extraordinary to 
our people, and from it they m.ay draw an improper inference as to 
their character and motives in so doing. But, in France, the wives, 
and sisters, and daughters of laboring men, work in the shops, in 
streets, like men, according to circumstances. In shops of all descrip- 
tions, there are women as well as men, generally, perhaps universally, 
both. In the largest stores in Paris, women keep the accounts, and 
the clerks take the articles sold, to the clerk of the accountantess, give- 
her the numbers and prices, and she calculates the amount, receives 
the money, and enters it in the book, and gives the receipt. A ma- 
jority of the persons in the shops of Paris are women, and this applies 
to all classes, even to the charcoal shops; women also drive the horse- 
carts, wield the hand-barrow, and carry burthens in the streets ; they 
drive teams to and from the markets, sweep the streets, plough the 
fields, and plant and gather the crops, and, in all respects, perform the 
labor of men, in the open air. All this class of women are generally 
industrious, civil, and, in all respects, well behaved ; but the popula- 
tion of France is excessive, the earnings of the people are small, and 
their taxes excessively heavy ; the women are, therefore, obliged to 
work, and in working, they lose the timidity which forms the charm 
of woman, and they become accustomed to mingling with men and the 
multitude ; and, in revolutions, they do not shrink from the position 
which habit has assigned to them, and with which necessity has made 
them familiar ; ihey, therefore, join their companions in arms, and, in 
some instances, I saw them carrying guns and drawn swords, during 
the melee. This feature in the condition of the French population is 
disagreeable to those who have seen woman only as she is respected 
and regarded in the United States. 

Saturday^ March 4. — One million of people, probably, have assem- 
bled-to witness the funeral rites over the departed dead — those who 
have died fighting for their liberty and a republic, and v/ho have been 
immortalized as suddenly and unexpectedly as their sovereign was de- 
. throned. This was probably the pageant of all pageants — the num- 
bers, the occasion, the sentiment of the public, the place, could hardly 
be expected to occur again in the history of the world. No descrip- 
tion can give any representation of the thing itself. It will want the 
grandeur, the sentiment, the expression, the impulse, the life, and 



44 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

fitting up of that which rnally existed. A roillion of people may as- 
semble, and the assembly give no evidence of a living, moving im- 
pulse, absorbing every other consideration, and equalling in expression 
the congregated numbers — it will be a large picture; but the paint- 
ing will not speak out, and exhibit its thousand varied and varying 
characteristics. It will not put forth here its gorgeous beauty and 
royal magnificence ; and there put on the colors of mourning, and 
drop a tear of sorrow ; here present the grandeur of power, and there 
the sentiments of profound emotion, and the most refined sensibility. 
It will be a congregated mass of people, and that is all. But not so 
with this Parisian assemblage, gathered together to pay the last tribute 
of respect to their companions in arms, who had died in doing service, 
that others might enjoy the rights of man. The manifestation was 
equal to the occasion, and beautifully appropriate ; there was the 
church of the Madeleine, the most elegant and magnificent church in 
Paris — not as Adrian says, built over the spot where Louis XVI. and 
Marie Antoinette were buried, but in the Place de la Madeleine, 
dressed in mourning outside and inside ; and upon the black drapery 
hapging down its lofty walls, in front were inscribed in immense let- 
ters, " To the citizens who died for liherty,'''' in the nave of the church 
was erected a catafalque^ and it was lighted and filled with a repre- 
sentation of every grade, class and profession in Paris ; it presented 
an imposing scene. Hundreds of musicians played standing upon the 
broad pedestal, upon which rest the columns that surround the church, 
and the immense throng joined in the " chant jor the dead^'' making 
Paris resound for many squares round, with the sound of instrumental 
and vocal music ; and apparently making every object present, ani- 
mate and inanimate, give forth strains of melody. Every street and 
square, as far as the eye could extend, was filled with human beings ; 
the uniforms of the troops, reflecting the bright rays of the sun, added 
infinitely to the effect. Every legion had its flag — every procession 
its drapeaux and its inscription. Here were the National Guards in 
all their glory, proud of their achievements, their new uniform, and 
the glory of the occasion, which belonged much to them. They con- 
stituted the prominent feature of the picture — their numbers were 
immense. They were the new recruits, not yet uniformed, number- 
ing more than twenty-five thousand, wearing the tri-colored badge of 
a National Guard. Here were the blue frocks in numbers past find- 
ing out. There were the Polish Legion, numbering thousands, bear- 
ing the most elegant banner of them all, amidst the cheers and wel- 
come of republican France. The air vibrated with oscillating and 
deafening cheers, upon the appearance of this relic of heroism and op- 
pression, and many a heart leaped at the thought of one day drawing 
the sword for Poland. Carriages were dressed and painted in black ; 
and in the centre was an immense carriage drawn by eight white 
horses, and dressed with wreaths of laurel, and filled in with cypress 
branches, towering high into the air; and after this came a carriage 
bearing a flag, upon which was inscribed '■'wounded,'''' and in which 
rode two wounded men, the sufferers in the late conflict. Every 
building was lined with spectators — every balcony filled with human 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 45 

beings, and every window with human heads. The masses crowded 
full every place where a man could stand on tiptoe ; and amidst this 
immense and varied throng rode, upon his white charger, Lamartine 
— his benevolent countenance beaming with a look of kindness and 
self-reliance, upon all — confident in the purity of his own intentions 
and the patriotism of France. May his hopes be fulfilled and his 
country be benefitted by the occasion, which is celebrated this day, 
and to which this man may now be considered as having devoted his 
life. A republic or exile is before him, each leading near by a gal- 
lows. He looked quiet, and he does not expect to fail ; he occupies a 
fearful eminence, and his name and deeds are already stamped in in- 
delible characters upon the French Revolution of 1848. 

On each side of the Boulevards, from the church to the Bastile, ex- 
tended three lines of the tri-colored flag — the distance is about four 
miles. Around the monument were twenty antique tripods, burning 
and casting up flames of blue and green ; around the monument was 
entwined the tri-colored flag ; a stage for the provisional government 
was erected at the foot of the monument. The symbolical chariot, 
before referred to, was male at the Hotel de Ville, and crowned with 
the statue of the republic. When the procession moved from the 
church, the bands played the national hymns. Before the revolution, 
there were numbers of the Municipal Guard upon every occasion 
when men or women congregated, at the balls, as well as in streets. 
Yesterday there was no guard except the National Guard in the pro- 
cession, and no disturbance. The cortege was three hours and a half 
in passing between two living hedges. At the monument, the govern- 
ment addressed the people, and paid the last tribute of respect to the 
dead, and of condolence to the living. The bodies are buried at the 
foot of this monument erected to liberty — and erected to the memory 
of the three days in July, 1830, which by the treachery of a king, they 
say, have been barren of their legitimate fruits. 

Wednesdaij, March 8. — The provisional government yesterday re- 
ceived a deputation of upwards of two hundred and eighty citizens of 
the United States. These gentlemen walked in procession to the Ho- 
tel de Ville, and amongst them was borne the American flag and that 
of the French republic united together, and flowing from the same 
staff. Mr. Goodrich, (Peter Parley), in the name of his countrymen, 
presented the following address: 

Gentlemen, Members of the Provisional Government of the French 
Republic — As citizens of the United States of America, and specta- 
tors of recent events in Paris, we come to offer you our congratula- 
tions. A grateful recollection of the past, and the ties of amity which 
have existed between your country and ours, prompt us to be among 
the first to testify to you and to the people of France the sympathy, 
the respect, the admiration which these events inspire. Acknowledg- 
- ing the right of every nation to form its own government, we may still 
be permitted to felicitate France upon the choice of a system which 
recognises as its basis the great principles of national liberty and po- 
litical equality. In the progress of the recent struggle here we have 
admired the magnanimity of the French people, their self-command 



46 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

in the hour of triumph, and their speedy return to order and law after 
the tumult and confusion of revolution. We see in these circum- 
stances happy omens of good to France and to mankind, — assur- 
ances that what has been so nobly begun will be consummated in the 
permanent establishment of a just and liberal government, and the con- 
sequent enjoyment of liberty, peace, and prosperity among the citizens 
of this great country. Accept these testimonials of the sentiments 
which fill our hearts at the present moment, and be assured that the 
news of the revolution which you have just achieved, will be hailed by 
our countrymen, on the other side of the Atlantic, with no other emo- 
tions than those of hope and joy, for France and for the world. 

M. Arago replied as follows : 

Citizens of the United States : — We are, happy to hear the expres- 
sion of the sentiments which you have just manifested ; and we are 
happy such sentiments proceed from the citizens of a free people. 
We are, above all, happy at the manner in which you appreciate the 
acts of the Parisian population. You have perceived what courage 
our fellow-citizens have shown on the day of combat, and what mod- 
eration they have shown after the victory ; you have also seen with 
what eagerness that people, after having departed from its ordinary 
sphere, again placed itself under the dominion of its laws. You have 
justly declared that a people has a right to give to itself such a govern- 
ment as suits it. Look at your own flag ; you behold there the evident 
proofs of your prosperity ; the number of stars which are there dis- 
played has been prodigiously augmented, and will be still more so. 
(Bravo ! bravo !) What has been so great an advantage to the 
American population, cannot fail to be so likewise for the French peo- 
ple (cheers.) We have no doubt that your fellow-citizens in the 
Uni-ted States will join in the sentiments which have brought you this 
day before the Provisional Government. We have no doubt that fresh 
applause will also be given there to the valiant population of Paris. 
(We can answer for that!) Gentlemen, the prayer that we offer up, 
and which will be realized, is to see the American nation, and the 
French nation, living in the most intimate union (loud cheering.) 
There is no motive of difierence between you and us, once that we are 
established as a republic, and that we advance in the republic path of 
liberty, equality, and fraternity. I am convinced that the two nations 
will be united, as are the two colors which you there bear amongst 
you, " Vive la Republique." (The cry was three times repeated by 
the deputation.) 

One of the American gentlemen then said : 

The Americans here present request you to accept these two flags 
united ; they are the eternal emblem of the alliance between France 
and the United States of North America. (The members of the dep- 
utation, — " We swear it by our blood ! ") 

M, Arago — We receive the color with gratitude. It shall be 
placed in the Hotel de Ville ; and I trust that never will despotism 
attempt to snatch it thence (loud applause.) 

The double flag was then placed in the Hall of Reception, and 
the deputation then withdrew amidst reiterated cries of " Vive la 
Republique ! " 



THE FRENCH KEVOLUTION, 47 

FRENCH REPUBLIC. 

LIBERTY — EQUALITY — FRATERNITY. 

The provisional government of the Republic, considering that no 
French land should any longer bear slaves, decrees — a commission is 
instituted under the provisional minister of colonies and the marine, to 
prepare, vvithin the shortest delay, the act for the immediate emancipa- 
tion of the slaves in all the colonies of the republic. F. Arago. 

The large banking house of M. Gouin has failed. 

Thursday, March 9. Latest advices from Paris represent the city 
as tranquil, but the financial crisis still continues unabated, and some 
eminent houses are spoken of as being in difficulties, but no farther 
failures have been announced. 

Friday, March \0. The forthcoming elections in France excite 
great attention. The government were aware of the fearful import- 
ance of the matter, and were, whh the temper and the sagacity that 
had hitherto characterized their measures, preparing for the crisis. 

Towards the close of business on Thursday, the market considera- 
bly improved in consequence of a report that the government v/ould 
publish on Friday, an expose of the financial situation of the country, 
in which important reductions in the public expenses would be an- 
nounced. It was understood that all salaries above 3,000 francs would 
be reduced, and that the ministers respectively should not be allowed 
more than 25,000 francs, ($5,000) per annum. 

The Republic has been acknowledged by England, Belgium and 
Switzerland. 

There was a rumor in Liverpool,when the Caledonia sailed, that the 
Emperor of Russia had refused to acknowledge the French republic. 

All the general officers of the garrison of Paris had sent in their 
adhesion to the government. 

We understand that on Saturday, 11th, all the diplomatic agents 
were recalled. The government has well conceived that those who 
abroad have been the interpreters, and too often the docile agents of 
an anti-national policy, cannot consistently continue to be the repre- 
sentatives of republican France. 

The electoral assemblies of cantons are convoked for the 9th April 
next, to elect representatives of the people to the national assembly, 
which is to decree the constitution. 



CIRCULAR OF THE MINISTER OF FOREIGN AFFAIRS TO THE 
DIPLOMATIC AGENTS OF THE FRENCH REPUBLIC. 

This most remarkable document was published in the "Moniteur " of Sun- 
day, March 4. It is bold, square, and to the point. There is nothing tortu- 
ous about it ; 

Sir : — You know the events of Paris, the victory of the people, its hero- 
ism, its moderation, its pacification, the order reestablished by the concur- 
rence of the whole of the citizens, as if, in that interregnum of the visible 
powers, the reason of the public were alone the government of France. 

The French revolution has thus entered into its definitive period. France 
is republican. The French Republic has no occasion to be acknowledged in 



48 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

order to exist. By natural law, as well as by the law of nations, it exists ; it 
is the will of a great people, which does not demand its title but from itself. 
Nevertheless, the P^rench Republic, desiring to enter into the family of gov- 
ernments instituted as regular powers, and not as a phenomenon coming to 
disturb the order of Europe, it is proper that you promptly make known to 
tne government to which you are accredited, the principles and tendencies 
which will henceforth direct the foreign policy of the French government. 

The proclamation of the French Republic is not an act of aggression against 
any form of government in the world. The forms of government have di- 
versities as legitimate as the forms of character, the geographical situation, 
the intelleclual, moral and material development of nations. Nations, like 
individuals, have different ages. The principles which govern them have 
successive phases — monarchical, aristocratical, constitutional, republican gov- 
ernments, are the expressions of the different degrees of the maturity of the 
genius of the different nations. They demand more liberty in proportion as 
they feel themselves capable of supporting more. They demand more equal- 
ity and democracy, in proportion as they are the more inspired with the feel- 
ing of justice and love for the people. It is a question of time. A nation 
goes astray in outrunning the hour of that maturity, as it dishonors itself in 
allowing it to escape without seizing upon it. The monarchy and the repub- 
lic are not, in the eyes of true statesmen, absolute principles which are ene- 
mies to the death : they are facts which are contrasted to each other, and 
which can live face to face, while they understand and respect each other. 

War, then, is not the principle of the French Republic, as it became the 
fatal and glorious necessity of the Republic in 1792. Between 1792 and 1848 
there is half a century. To return, after the lapse of half a century, to the 
principles of 1792, or to the principles of conquest and of empire, would not 
be to advance, it would be to retrograde witli the advance of time. The rev- 
olution of yesterday is a step in advance, and not one backwards. The world 
and ourselves wish to march to fraternity and peace. 

If the situation of the Republic in 1792 explained the war, the differences 
which exist between that period of our history and that in which we live, 
explains the peace. Apply yourself to the understanding of these differences, 
and explain them to those around you. 

In 1792 the nation was not one. Two nations (peuples) existed on the 
same soil. A terrible struggle still prolonged itself between the classes dis- 
possessed of their privileges, and the classes who had just succeeded in 
achieving equality and liberty. The classes dispossessed united themselves 
with the captive royalty, and with jealous foreigners, to deny its revolution 
in France, and re-impose upon it the monarchy, the aristocracy, and the the- 
ocracy by invasion. At the present day, there are no longer any distinctions 
and inequality of classes. Liberty has freed all. Equality before the law 
has levelled everything. Fraternity, of which we proclaim the application, 
and of which the national assembly is to organize the benefits, is about to 
unite all. There is not a single citizen in France, to whatever opinion he 
may belong, who does not rally to the principle of the country before every- 
thing else, and who does not render, by that very union, all attempts impreg- 
nable to the attempt and to the fears of invasion. 

In 1792 it was not the entire population who entered into the possession of 
the government. It was the middle classes only who wished to exercise lib- 
erty and enjoy it. The triumph of the middle classes at that time was ego- 
tistical, as the triumph of every oligarchy must be. It wished to retain for 
itself the rights achieved for all. It was necessary for it to operate a strong 
diversion against the advance of the people by precipitating it (the people) 
on the field of battle, in order to prevent it from entering into the exercise of 
its own government. This diversion was the war. War was the idea of the 
Monarchians and the Girondins. It was not the idea of the most advanced 
democrats, who wished like us the sincere regards and the complete reign of 
the people itself, comprising in that name all classes, without exclusion or 
preference, as the nation is composed. 

In 1792 the people was only the instrument of the revolution. To-day the 
revolution is made by the people and for the people. The people is itself the 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 49 

revolution. In entering into it, it carries into it its new necessities of labor, 
of industry, of instruction, of agriculture, of commerce, of morality, of pros- 
perity, of property, of cheap living, of navigation, and, in short, of civiliza- 
tion, which are all the necessities of peace. The people and peace are but 
one word. 

In 1792 the ideas of France and of Europe were unprepared to comprehend 
and to accept the great harmony of nations among each other to the benefit 
of the human race. The idea of the age which was closing was only in the 
heads of some philosophers. Philosophy at the present day is popular. Fifty 
years of liberty, of thinking, of speaking, and of writing, have produced 
their result. Books, journals, and the tribune, have acted as the apostles of 
European intelligence. Reason spreading everywhere, and overstepping the 
frontiers of nations, has created that intellectual nationality which will be 
the achievement of the French revolution, and the constitution of interna- 
tional fraternity all over the globe. 

In short, in 1792 liberty was a novelty, equality was a scandal, and the 
Republic was a problem. The title of nations, which had only just been dis- 
covered by Fenelon, Montesquieu, and Rousseau, was so completely forgotten, 
buried, profaned by old feudal dynastic and sacerdotal traditions, that the most 
legitimate intervention of the people in its affairs appeared a monstrosity to 
the statesmen of the old school. Democracy made the monarchs, and at the 
same time the foundations of society tremble. To-day, thrones and the peo- 
ple are accustomed to the word, to the forms, and to the regular agitations of 
liberty, exercised in nearly different proportions, in all States, and even in 
monarchies. They will accustom themselves to the Republic, which is its 
complete form in all the ripest of nations. They will recognize that there is 
a conservative liberty. They will acknowledge that there may be in the 
Republic not only better order, but that there may be more real order in that 
government of all for all, than in the government of the few for the few. 

But besides these disinterested considerations, the sole interest of the con- 
solidation and the duration of the Republic would inspire in the statesmen of 
France the thoughts of peace. It is not the country that runs the greatest 
danger in the war, it is the liberty. War is almost always a dictatorship. 
Soldiers forget institutions for men. Thrones tempt the ambitious. Glory 
dazzles patriotisnr. The [)restige of a glorious name veils the attack upon 
the sovereignty of the nation. The Republic desires glory, without doubt, 
but it wishes for it for itself, and not for Csesars or Napoleons. 

Do not deceive yourselves nevertheless. Those ideas which the provision- 
al government charges you to present to the powers as a pledge of European 
safety, have not for their object to obtain forgiveness to the Republic for hav- 
ing had the boldness to create itself, and still less to ask humbly the place of 
a great right and a great people in Europe. They have a more noble object : 
to make sovereigns and nations reflect, and not to allow them to deceive 
themselves involuntarily, as to the character of our revolution ; to give its 
true light and its just character to the event; in short, to give pledges to liu-- 
manity before giving them to our right, and to our honor, if they should be. 
unacknowledged or threatened. 

The French re[)ublic will, then, not make war on any one. It has no oc- 
casion to say that, if conditions of war are laid down to the French people it 
will accept them. The thoughts of the men who at the present moment gov- 
ern France, are these : it will be fortunate for France if war be declared 
against it, and if it be constrained thus to increase in strength and glory, 
in spite of its moderation. It will be a terrible responsibility for France if 
the republic itself declares war without being provoked to it. In the first 
case its martial genius, its impatience of action, its strength accumulated dur 
ing so many years of peace, will render it invincible within its own territory, 
and redoubtable, perhaps, beyond its frontiers. In the second case, it would 
turn against itself the recollection of its conquests, which diminish the 
affection of nations, and it would compromise the first and most universal 
alliance, the spirit of nations, and the genius of civilization. 

According to these principles, sir, which are the cool principles of France 
— principles she can present without fear, as without suspicjon, tp her friends 
5 



50 THE FRENCH KEVOLUTION. 

and to her enemies, you will have the goodness to impress upon yourself the 
following declarations : — 

The treaties of 1815 exist no longer as law in the eyes of the French Repub- 
lic ; nevertheless, the territorial circumscriptions of these treaties are a fact 
which it admits as a basis, and as a " point de depart " in its relations with 
other nations. 

But if the treaties of 1815 do not exist any longer excepting as facts to 
modify a common understanding, and if the Republic declares openly that its 
right and its mission is to arrive regularly and pacifically at these modifica- 
tions, the good sense, the moderation, the conscience, the prudence of the 
Republic exist, and are for Europe a better and more honorable guaranty than 
the letter of those treaties, so often violated and modified by Europe itself. 

Endeavor, sir, to make the emancipation of the Republic from the treaties 
of 1815 be clearly understood, and try to show that freedom has nothing in it 
that is irreconcilable with the repose of Europe. 

Thus we declare it openly. If the hour of the reconstruction of some na- 
tionalities, oppressed in Europe or elsewhere, should appear to us to have 
sounded in the decrees of Providence — if Switzerland, our faithful ally since 
Francis I., were constrained or threatened in the advance which she is effect- 
ing in her government, in order to lend additional strength to the facine of 
democratic governments — if the independent States of Italy were invaded — 
if any limits or obstacles were imposed on their internal transformations — if 
the right of alliance among themselves, in order to consolidate an Italian na- 
tion, were contested by main force — the French Republic would believe it- 
self entitled to arm itself in order to protect these legitimate movements of 
the greatness and the nationality of States. 

The Republic, you see, by its first step, repudiates the era of proscriptions 
and of dictations. She is decided never to veil liberty at home. She is equal- 
ly decided never to veil its democratic principle abroad. She will never per- 
mit any one to interpose between the pacific radiation of its liberty and the 
regard of nations. She proclaims herself the intellectual and cordial ally of 
every right, of every progress, of every legitimate developement of the insti- 
tutions of nations which wish to live on the same principle as herself. She will 
not endeavor any immoderate or incendiary propagandism amongst her neigh- 
bors. She knows that there is no durable freedom but that which grows of 
itself on its own soil. But it will exercise by the light of its ideas, by the 
spectacle of order and of peace which it hopes to give to the world, the sole 
and honest proselytism of esteem and of sympathy. That is not war — it is 
nature. That is not the agitation of Europe ; it is life. That is not to em- 
broil the world ; it is to shine from its place on the horizon of nations, to ad- 
vance them and to guide them at the same time. We desire, for humanity, 
Ihat the peace be preserved. We even hope it. One only question of war was 
mooted, a year ago, between England and France. It was not republican 
France which started that question of war ; it was the dynasty. The dynasty 
carries away with it that danger of war which it had given rise to for Eu- 
rope by the entirely personal ambition of its family alliances in Spain. Thus 
that domestic policy of the fallen dynasty, which weighed for seventeen years 
on our national dignity, weighed at the same time, by its pretensions to an- 
other crown at Madrid on our liberal alliances and on peace. The republic 
has no ambition. The republic has no depotism. It inherits not the pretensions 
of a family. Let Spain govern itself; let Spain be independent and free 
France, for the solidity of this natural alliance, counts more on the conform 
ity of principles than on the successions of the house of Bourbon ! 

Such is, sir, the spirit of the councils of the republic. Such will invariably 
be the character of the policy, frank, firm, and moderate, which you will 
have to represent. 

The republic has pronounced at its birth, and in the midst of the heat of 
contest, not provoked by the people, three words which have revealed its 
soul, and which will call down on its cradle the blessings of God and men : 
Liberty, Equality, Fraternity. She gave immediately thereafter, by the abo- 
lition of the punishment of death for political offences, the true commentary of 
those three words at home : do you also give them their true commentary 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 51 

abroad. The sense of these three words applied to our external relations is 
this; the breaking by France of the chains which weighed on its principle 
and on its dignity ; the recovery of the rank which it oughl, to occupy in the 
scale of the great European powers; in fine, the declaration of alliance and 
amity to all nations. If France feels conscientiously its ])art in the mission 
of freedom and civilization in the present age, there is not one of those words 
which signifies war. If Europe is prudent and just, there is not one of those 
words which does not signify peace. 

Receive, sir, the assurance of my high esteem. 

(Signed) LAMARTINE. 

Member of the Provisional Government of the Republic, and Minister of 
Foreign Affairs. 

Paris, March 2d, 1848. ' 



FLIGHT OF LOUIS-PHILIPPE AND HIS FAMILY. 

M. C. Maurice, the editor of the Courrier des Spectacles, gives the 
following account of the departure of the ex-King fronn the Tuileries : 

" About one o'clock in the afternoon, whilst in conversation with 
the colonel of the 21st Regiment of the Line, who appeared well dis- 
posed, and of which he gave proof in ordering his men to sheath their 
bayonets, a young man in plain clothes, who turned out to be the son 
of Admiral Baudin, on horseback, trotted past us at a quick pace, cry- 
ing out that Louis-Philippe had abdicated, and requesting that the 
news might be circulated. A few instants after, at the Pont Tournant, 
we saw approach from the Tuileries a troop of National Guards on 
horseback, at a walking pace forming the head of a procession, and 
by gestures and cries inviting the citizens to abstain from every un- 
favorable demonstration. At this moment the expression, 'a great- 
misfortune,' {une grande infortune^) was heard, and the King Louis- 
Philippe, his right arm passed under the left arm of the Queen, on 
whom he appeared to lean for support, was seen to approach from the 
gate of the Tuileries, in the midst of the horsemen, and followed by 
about thirty persons in different uniforms. The Queen walked with a 
firm step, and cast around looks of assurance and anger intermingled. 
The King wore a black coat, with a common round hat, and wore no 
orders. The Queen was in full mourning. A report was circulated 
that they were going to the Chamber of Deputies to depose the act of 
abdication. Cries of " Vive la Reforme ! ''"' " Vive la France!'''' and 
even, by two or three persons, '■'■Vive le jRoi .' " were heard. The 
procession had scarcely passed the Pont Tournant, and arrived at the 
pavement surrounding the Obelisk, when the King, the Queen, and the 
whole party made a sudden halt, apparently without any necessity. 
In a moment they were surrounded by a crowd on foot and horse- 
back, and so crowded that they had no longer their freedom of motion. 
Louis-Philippe appeared alarmed at this sudden approach. In fact the 
spot fatally chosen by an effect of chance produced a strange feeling. 
A few paces off a Bourbon king, an innocent and resigned victim, 
would have been happy to have experienced no other treatment. 
Louis-Philippe turned quickly round, let go the Queen's arm, took off 
his hat, raised it in the air, and cried out something which the noise 



52 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

prevented my hearing ; in fact, the cries and pele mele were general. 
The Queen became alarmed at no longer feeling the King's arm, and 
turned around with extreme haste, saying something which I could not 
catch. At this moment I said, ' Madame, ne craignez rien ; continuez, 
les rangs vont s'ouvrir devant vous.' Whether her anxiety gave a 
false interpretation to my intention or not I am ignorant, but pushing 
back my hand, she exclaimed, ' Laissez moi ! ' with a most irritated 
accent She seized hold of the King's arm, and they both turned their 
steps towards two small black carriages with one horse each. In the 
first were two young children. The King took the left, and the Queen 
the right, and the children with their faces close to the glass of the 
vehicle, looking at the crowd with the utmost curiosity. The coach 
man whipped his horse violently, in fact with so much rapidity did it 
take place that the coach appeared rather carried than driven away. 
It passed before me, surrounded by the cavalry and National Guards 
present, and cuirassiers and dragoons. The second carriage, in which 
were two ladies, followed the other at the same pace, and the escort 
which amounted to about 200 men, set off at a full gallop, taking the 
water side, towards St. Cloud. The horse in the coach in which the 
King was could not have gone the whole way, so furiously did he gal- 
lop under the repeated lashes of the coachman, whilst the surrounding 
crowds vociferated that they were taking flight. At this moment I was 
accosted by M. Cremieux, who said with truth that we had put the 
royal party into their carriage, and we proceeded together to the 
Chamber of Deputies. 

The King reached the chateau, at Dreux, on the night of the 24th." 

LOUIS-PHILIPPE IN EXILE. 

It will be well to retrace the course of the King and Queen from 
the chateau at Dreux, previously to leaving which a farmer procured 
disguises for the royal party ; the King habiting himself in an old 
cloak and cap, having first shaved his whiskers, discarded his wig, and 
altogether disguised himself so as to defy recognition. 

Long before daylight, the party started on their way to La Ferte 
Vidame : taking the road of Evreux, twelve to fifteen leagues from 
Honfleur. They travelled chiefly by night, and reached Honfleur at 
five o'clock on Saturday morning. They remained at Honfleur, in the 
house of a gentleman whom the Kin^' knew, for a short time, and then 
crossed to Tronville, a short distance from the town. It was their in- 
tention to embark at Tronville, but owing to the boisterous state of 
the weather they were compelled to remain at the latter place two 
days, when finding they could not set sail, they returned to Honfleur, 
with the intention of embarking from that place ; but the sea still con- 
tinued very rough, and the King fearing that the Queen in her ex- 
hausted condition would be unable to bear the fatigue of a rough pas- 
sage, deferred his departure till the weather changed on Thursday. 
In the meantime information was secretly conveyed to the Express, 
Southampton steam-packet, that they would be required to take a party 
from Havre to England. 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 53 

On Thursday afternoon, \he gentlemen who sheltered the dethroned 
Monarch and his Consort at Honfleur engaged a French fishing-boat 
to convey the party from Honfleur to Havre ; and, fearing that in this 
small vessel the features of the king might be recognized, the gentle- 
man engaged an interpreter to interpret French to the king, who, to 
render his disguise more complete, passed as an Englishman. Noth- 
ing of moment transpired on the passage to Havre, where the Express 
was waiting with her steam up ; and at nine o'clock on Thursday eve- 
ning, the royal fugitives and suite set sail for England. 

A little before seven on Friday morning, the Express steamer ar- 
rived off Newhaven harbor. Here she lay to, and her commander, 
Captain Paul, pulled off for shore in a boat with General Dumas, who 
proceeded to the Bridge Inn, to bespeak accommodations for the voy- 
agers. Having made due arrangements, he started for London, leav- 
ing the hostess in perfect ignorance as to the rank of her expected 
gu°ests. The Captain returned to his ship shortly after. About eleven 
o'clock a boat pulled up to the shore, containing an elderly gentleman 
attired in an old green blouse and travelling-cap, and a rough great 
coat: a lady of similar age, plainly dressed in a black bonnet, and 
checked black and white cloak, attended by a young female ; and 
three other persons. 

The royal party having landed, were conducted by Mr. Sims the 
distance o"f 200 yards, where a fly was in waiting, into which the king 
and queen, with the female attendant, stepped, and were about 
to proceed, when Mr. Sims involuntarily betrayed his recognition, and 
exclaimed, " Welcome to England, King Louis-Philippe! welcome, 
welcome !" 

The party were then conducted by Mr. Sims to the Bridge Inn, 
where every preparation had been made by Mrs. Smith to secure the 
comfort of her anticipated but unknown guests. The truth, however, 
was immediately disclosed ; and the worthy hostess, her daughter and 
assistants, confirmed the welcome which had already been pronounced, 
and conducted the royal exiles up stairs. On reaching their apart- 
ment, the emotions of the worn-out and harassed travellers overpow- 
ered them, and found vent in a flood of tears. 

The royal party comprised, in addition to the king and queen, a fe- 
male German attendant on her majesty, a confidential valet, a private 
secretary, (M. Pauline, Oficier d'Ordonnance), and two other gentle- 
men. Considerable secrecy was at first observed as to the names and 
rank of the retinue, who, however, have since proved to be Generals 
Dumas and Rumigny, M. Thuret, the king's private valet, and Mile. 
Muser, attendant on the queen. 

In the course of the morning, several of the inhabitants of_ New- 
haven paid their respects to his majesty, and offered their services in 
various ways. Mr. Packham was charged to proceed to Brighton, m 
order there to repair the deficiencies of the royal wardrobe ; " for," 
said the ex-monarch pithily to Mr. Packham, " we are very short of 
clothes." The king also handed over to him several bags of silver 
coin, for the purpose of getting it changed into English money. 
5* 



54 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 

In the course of the afternoon the editor of the Sussex Advertiser 
had a private interview with Louis-Philippe and his august Consort. 

" In alluding to recent events," says the editor, " his Majesty point- 
edly disclaimed any feelings of animosity or resentment against those 
who had helped to hurl him from the lofty position he had lately oc- 
cupied. His observations on this point were made with a calm and 
dignified composure of voice and manner, which certainly gave the 
strongest impress of sincerity and truth. Without attempting to ex- 
culpate either one party or the other, it may be truly said that, had a 
far different tone pervaded the observations of the dethroned monarch, 
the moment and the occasion might well have been pleaded in excuse. 
During this most interesting interview, there were no other persons 
present save General Rumigny. It was an interview not easily to be 
forgotten." 

The royal party proceeded to the railway station, and at eleven the 
train took its departure for Lewes. A number of persons congre- 
gated, who warmly greeted the royal exiles. The king acknowledged 
their greetings, stretching out his arm and shaking hands with those 
nearest his carriage window. 

At Croyden the Duke and Duchess of Nemours, who had arrived 
from town, had been waiting the arrival of the special train from New- 
haven since ten o'clock. 

In due season the approach of the royal train was perceived, and 
notified to the party waiting its arrival in deep anxiety. On perceiv- 
ing her children, the queen gave a stifled scream. In a moment Louis- 
Philippe was locked in the embrace of his son, the Duke de Nemours. 
It was determined that the ex-king and queen and their illustrious rela- 
tives should proceed direct to Claremont, in carriages which were in 
waiting for that purpose. 

Queen Victoria had offered to send her private carriage to East 
Sheen, to convey the royal party to Claremont ; but the ex-king de- 
clined the proffered courtesy, preferring to travel in a private manner 
to his destination. 

On reaching the railway station doorway, his Majesty recognized 
the editor of the Sussex Advertiser, and seizing his hand, grasped and 
retained it firmly in his own, saying, with most impressive tone and 
manner: " My friend, recollect this: Charles X. was dethroned for 
having sought to abolish the Charter of the Constitution ; I have been 
dethroned because I resolutely strove to uphold it. Recollect this. 
You mark the difference." The royal party then entered their car- 
riages, and were loudly cheered on their departure. 




G U I Z T 



M. GUIZOT, LATE MINISTER— AND MEMBERS OF THE 
PROVISIONAL GOVERNMENT. 



UIZOT— First entered public life in the year 1829, as Deputy 
for Lisieux, being then in the 42d year of his age. Before, how- 
ever, he had long been a member, the Chamber dissolved. He 
_ was again returned, and henceforth took a prominent part, and 
was a leadmg member, in all the succeeding administrations, ex- 
cept while filling the London embassy. It is, however, as a member 
of the ministry^of October, 1840, that he has become best known. 
During this period Marshal Soult was for five years President of the 
Counc'il, and therefore head of the JVIinistry, still M. Guizot may have 
been looked upon virtually, if not actually, as the Premier, and took 
the lead in all the important and weighty questions of the day. 

Below the middle stature, somewhat square-built, and of an aspect 
always grave, if not severe, with a proud and piercing eye, M. Guizot 



56 THE FliENCH REVOLUTION. 

Strikes you at first sight as a man of thoughtful and reflective habits, 
and of an energy subdued rather than extinguished by severe study. 
Approach him nearer, and you will perceive that he is more spare in 
flesh, more sombre in appearance, more livid in look, than you had 
supposed at a distance. His features, when excited, assume a dis- 
agreeable aspect — his lips become contracted, his eyes appear deeper 
sunk in their cavernous orbits, and his whole appearance gives token 
of a person of a restless and melancholy, as well as of a meditative 
disposition. There is no gaiety in his look or manner. He does not 
laugh nor joke with his next neighbor on the bench of ministers, but 
appears altogether absorbed in public affairs or in his own reflections. 
At the tribune, notwithstanding his diminutive stature, his appearance 
is imposing, for he has an expressive countenance — there is much 
latent fire in his deep-set eye, and notwithstanding his dictatorial and 
pedantical air, there is a certain dignity in his manner. His voice is 
full and sonorous, but it is neither very varied in its tone nor very 
flexible. His style of speaking appears more of the Genevese, than 
of the French school. It is dry, sententious, clear, dogmatical, lumi- 
nous, lacking the suppleness and vivacity of Thiers, and the genial 
flow, pathos, richness, grace, and large manner of Berryer. But the 
tone of M. Guizot, it must be admitted, is generally philosophical and 
elevated, and he exhibits great power of expression, and often much 
adroitness in hitting the humor of the Chamber. No man seizes on a 
leading popular idea with greater address, or more artfully and elabor- 
ately produces it suited to the taste of a majority. Of many of the de- 
tails of business, and of much of the ordinary routine of office, Guizot 
is ignorant. To the praise of being a very learned man, a clever and 
copious writer, and a first rate debater, M. Guizot has fully vindicated 
his claim. 

Lamartine, the Minister of Foreign Affairs, is almost unknown in 
this country, except as a poet, who has written much, and has been 
praised by Goethe, and been called by his countrymen the Byron of 
France. But Lamartine has been for many years a politician, and a 
reformer. Unlike most poets he is rich in this world's goods ; and 
unlike most politicians he has never sought office for the sake of its 
emoluments. He was born at Macon, on the 21st of October, 1790, 
and was educated, until the time of going to college, by his mother. 
His father had been a major in a cavalry regiment, under Louis the 
XVL, and his mother was the daughter of an under governess in the 
family of the parents of Louis-Philippe. In all of his writings there 
has been exhibited a strong religious sentiment, which is to be ac- 
counted for by the history of his early years. He relates that his 
mother received from her mother on her death bed, a present of a 
Bible. Out of this book, when quite a child, he was taught to read ; 
it was ornamented with engravings ; and when he had recited his les- 
sons well, and had read half a page or more without making mistakes, 
his mother used to reward him by showing and explaining the pictures. 
Six years after her death, he described, with all the fervor of a poet, 
the silvery and affectionate tones of her voice, and dwelt with rapture 
upon the recollections of those days when, seated on her lap, she 



THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 5*? 

praised his good behavior, and wondered what would be his future 
fate. 

Lamartine finished his education at the College of Peres de la Foi 
in Belley, where he was noted for his fervent religious feeling and 
serious character. On leaving college he went first to Lyons, and then 
made a voyage to Italy. He went to Paris during the last days of the 
ennpire, and having been educated to hate and despise the imperial 
reginne, he was somewhat puzzled to know what to do with himself. 
Being young and not a little enthusiastic, he was soon for a time led 
away by the attractions of the theatre, and spent considerable money 
and time in admiring the acting of Talma, who was at that period in 
all his glory. In 1813, he again visited Italy, where he wrote or com- 
menced a number of literary works. On the fall of the emperor he 
returned and offered his services to the restored race which had shared 
the blood and the affections of his father, and was enrolled as a mem- 
ber of the gardes du corps. After the famous Hundred Days, Lamar- 
tine quitted the service ; and, having become attached to a young wo- 
man, was about to marry, when she was snatched away from him by 
death. This circumstance affected him for several years, and on it 
he has written some of his most poetical poems. 

In 1820, on rising from a sick bed, he gathered together his writings 
and attempted to find a purchaser, or at least a publisher. It was a 
hard task ; but accident led to acquaintance with a man who was 
struck with Lamartine'a appearance, or had the taste to discover some 
peculiar value in his poems, and who printed them under the title of 
" Meditations Poetiques." To so great a popularity did he arrive in a 
short time, that within less than four years forty-five thousand copies 
of his first work were sold in Paris. This success opened to him the 
doors of diplomatic life, and he was sent as an attache to Florence. 
From that time to J825, he resided successively at Naples and at Lon- 
don as Secretary of Legation ; and from that latter city, went back to 
Tuscany as Charge d'Aflaires. 

A poet's life is incomplete without some romance, and Lamartine 
was not without his share of happy adventure. When in Florence as 
a simple attache, in the midst of a splendid Italian fete, he overheard 
a rich, tender, and melodious voice, murmuring whh a foreign accent, 
one of his own verses. The soul of the poet was on fire at once, and 
an acquaintance being easily made with his fair admirer, who proved 
to be a rich, young English woman, he was married to her in the 
course of a few months. Just previous to his return to Tuscany, his 
fortune already large, was increased by the death of his uncle ; but 
neither diplomacy nor riches seemed to wean him from the muses ; 
and he kept on writing and publishing from time to time. One of his 
poems was considered so offensive to a Neapolitan officer, that he chal- 
lenged Lamartine, who fought to defend his verses, and received a 
dangerous wound, which confined him for sometime to his bed. 

In 1829 he returned to Paris, and was elected a member of the In- 
stitute. He was about to depart for Greece in the character of Min- 
ister Plenipotentiary, when the revolution of 1830 took place. The 
new government offered to confirm the appointment ; but he refused 



58 THE FEENCH EEVOLUTION. 

it, and preferred to remain out of office, holding his own predilections 
for the elder branch of the Bourbon family. 

The revolution of 1830 opened people's eyes to many things that 
were not previously known to their philosophy ; and among others 
Lamartine was led to speculate more calmly and considerately on the 
subject of politics. Now commenced with him a desire for a more 
active life, and he panted to take part in the debates of the tribune. 
But his first step was an unlucky one ; he came forward as candidate, 
for the Chamber of Deputies from Toulon and was defeated. 

In 1833 he went to Marseilles, where he engaged a vessel entirely 
for his own use, and sailed for Asia. He was absent from France for 
sixteen months, with his family, during which time he had the misfor- 
tune to lose his only child, a daughter. On his return he published 
his famous work entitled Voyage en Orient. He visited all the princi- 
pal places in Egypt and Asia, traversed the deserts, made acquaint- 
ance with Ibrahim Pacha, the famous Lady Stanhope, and other dis- 
tinguished people. His Itineraire is at once the book of a poet, a 
historian, and a philosopher ; describing, as it does, all the principal 
places in Greece, Judea, Turkey, and Servia. He was recalled to 
France by the people of Dunkerque, who had in his absence elected 
him to the Chamber. 

In January, 1834, he made his first appearance on the tribune dur- 
ing the discussion of the address in answer to the throne, and occa- 
sioned great curiosity, as it was yet unknown which of the parties he 
would join ; but ho refused to be classed with either party ; he spoke 
of justice, of moderation, of toleration, of humanity. 

After his entry into the Chamber, he did not, as many predicted he 
would, desert the paths of literature ; and he has published, during the 
period which has elapsed, some of his best works. His History of the 
Girondins is having an immense sale at the present time. At the 
same time he has increased in power as a debater, and risen in public 
estimation as a politician. He was enthusiastic in the description of 
the glorious future fate which he had pictured in his own mind for 
Eastern countries, and contended that they would, in the course of 
twenty years, become great and civilized republics. 

Lamartine will be found liberal, honorable, and courteous in his in- 
tercourse with other nations, a foe to tyranny, and a friend to young 
as well as old republics. 

Garnier Pages, Minister of Finance, is not so handsome a looking 
man as either Barrot or Lamartine. His face is long, and rather thin, 
— his eyes staring, and he wears rather large spectacles ; his hair 
has generally a crazy look, and he brushes it high up, exposing a 
broad good forehead. But, on the whole, he has quite as intelligent 
a look as either of the other gentlemen named. We find in a work 
published a few years ago, that Pages is stated to have brought with 
him into politics, all those qualities which adversity bestows upon se- 
lect minds; the habit of observation, calmness in discussion, a whole- 
some appreciation of difficulties, a knowledge of the world, a practical 
method of considering its daily occurrences. 




ODILLON EARROT 



^DILLON BARROT, who led the way in the Revolution, at first, 
is a stout, strong-built man, with a comely, inexpressive, and 
meditative face. His voice is full and sonorous, and he has a 
pompous and measured style in speaking, and he generally 
gives you rather the idea of a professor of moral philosophy, or a lec- 
turer, than a political debater. But occasionally he warms to his sub- 
jects, and at such times an auditor may ever and anon hear some 
finely conceived sentences, well delivered, with earnest and appropri- 
ate action. Lukewarmness, however, and temporizing are the char- 
acteristics of the man. He is almost always tame, and generally 
timid, and though he has come out with more fire and force recently 
during the reform banquets, yet if the people resist, Barrot will not be 
the man to lead them on. The great defect of this cold, calm, color- 
less man is, that he is too full of theories and abstractions. Though 
he occasionally generalizes luminously, yet being totally devoid of fine 
fancy and imagmation, his didactic disquisitions fall on heedless and 
unlistening ears. 



60 THE FRENCH REVOLUTION. 



iiiiiiii: 

019 650 381 A, 



DuPONT, {(le VEure), the President of the Council, is a Nestor in 
the public service, being 81 years of age, and having been more than 
60 years in public life. His inflexible integrity and lofty sense of 
duty are proverbial. Elected a deputy at the Restoration, he im- 
mediately resigned a profitable and highly honorable magistracy, which 
he had before enjoyed, deeming its continued tenure incompatible 
with the proper discharge of the duties of his new station, and thus ad- 
ministering a cutting rebuke to the crowd of functionaries, that then, 
as lately, crowded the Chambers. He was the close friend of La 
Fayette, and through the influence of the latter, became the First Min- 
ister of Justice under Louis-Philippe, who was anxious to secure for 
his new administration the benefit of his name and influence. Not 
long after, Dupont thought he discovered Machiavelism in the King, 
and indignantly withdrew from the cabinet. He repulsed with dis- 
dain all attempts to conciliate him by ofl^ering him a seat on the bench 
of the High Court of Appeals. Though poor, he was no Trojan to 
accept presents from the Greeks, and has ever since opposed the Or- 
leans government with the most unwavering resolution, in 1842, he 
was elected a Deputy by three different colleges. His advanced age 
has prevented his taking a very active part in the late Revolution, or 
the acts succeeding if, but yet his name is a tower of confidence. 

Arago, who is Mayor of Paris, was one of the active men of 1830, 
although not then a member of the Chamber. He is better known in 
this country by his fame as a man of science. He always maintained 
his liberal opinions with the greatest ability and fearlessness. Neman 
is more independent of cliques and factions. Arago was never a slave 
to anything mortal but once ; and then he was made so by stress of 
circumstances. Having been sent to Spain to make some observ- 
ations on longitude, the vessel in which he sailed fell into the hands of 
the Algerines, and for months he suffered bondage. If size and weight 
are controlling elements in the valuation of slave propeily, Arago 
must have been deemed a rich prize by his barbarian masters, for his 
stature is Herculean. He is now in his sixty-third year, with a tall 
and majestic figure, a bright sparkling eye, and an impetuous manner. 
He is a man who always wants to be doing something else — never 
satisfied to keep his mind to one point only, but while engaged on one 
subject, although not disposed to give it up, never satisfied without a, 
second object also engages his thoughts ; he is a man who would, if he 
could, keep both hands employed on two difl^erent tasks. His father 
took particular pains with his education, and he had the advantage of 
instruction at Perpignan college, whence he went to a still higher insti- 
tution at Montpelier, and afterwards, at eighteen years of age, to the 
Polytechnic school, where he remained two years. His first public 
service was in the capacity of Secretary of the Bureau of Longitudes, 
Napoleon sent him to Spain, on an important scientific expedition, 
which was accompanied with important results. 

In 1831 Arago was elected to the Chamber from his native place, 
Perpignan, and immediately established himself on the opposition 
benches. He has held a large number of public offices, and has for 
many years been director of the Observatory of Paris, and chief of 
the Bureau of Longitudes. 



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